


Until we find each other

by RoseStilinskiHale



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alpha Derek Hale, Alpha Peter(Hale)Richmond, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Werewolf, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Beta Jennifer Blake, Beta Melissa McCall, Beta Scott McCall, Body Worship, Born Werewolf Stiles Stilinski, Dark Derek Hale, Dubious Morality, F/M, Good Peter Hale, Jennifer Blake is Not a Darach, M/M, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Obsessive-Compulsive Disorder, Omega Stiles Stilinski, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Rape/Non-con Elements, Sassy Stiles Stilinski, Trans Character, Trans Stiles, True Mates, Werewolf Mates
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-03-18
Updated: 2016-05-16
Packaged: 2018-03-18 12:45:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 11
Words: 37,142
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3570206
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RoseStilinskiHale/pseuds/RoseStilinskiHale
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tans Omega were considered to be lowest in pack hierarchy. Stiles being one was looked down upon and people preferred to avoid him. </p><p>Stiles had no qualms about it and he was somewhat okay with his life. He wasn't sad but he wasn't happy. He was only alive and breathing and was had a family.</p><p>He was okay with his life, until he realized that his present seemed impossible and future dire and bleak.</p><p>Until he met an Alpha he knew was not right for him. His instincts screamed danger.</p><p> </p><p>Update will be in every three days.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This fanfic is Inspired by One Night by Jodi Elle Malpas
> 
>  
> 
> All the characters belongs to Teen Wolf and I make no claim to the plot of the story.  
>  
> 
> This is my Sterek version of One Night with certain changes incorporated by me to suit the situation and the ending of the fanfic.
> 
>  
> 
>    
>  **Information regarding the fic**  
>   
> 
> 1\. Derek is 27 year old, lone mysterious Alpha
> 
>  
> 
> 2\. Peter is an Alpha and is named as Peter Richmond in this fic
> 
>  
> 
> 3.Melissa is Stiles' adoptive mother and old friend of Claudia.
> 
>  
> 
> 4.Scott is Stiles' best friend and adoptive brother.
> 
>  
> 
> 5.Stiles is 20 years old Trans male and Omega and works as a waiter.

Humiliation wasn't something new for Stiles and it didn't bother him much now. For him it was like he waited in the queue everyday just to get humiliated. He had always been insulted and humiliated by one and many. When he was in school he wasn't a popular kid hadn't had popular girlfriends or boyfriends.

 

All his life he had been invisible. Invisible to the kids in school; to the players of lacrosse; to his neighbours; the people who walked past him in the streets; almost everyone. People would walk past him and never had been bothered to stop and say a simple _hello_ even though he knew that somewhere in his life he had known them. At school nobody bothered to ask him any questions or share lunch with him, except for Scott of course, which was a different story per se. Scott and Stiles had been friends for ever, like eternity. So for Stiles, being with Scott was nothing new or he thought it was his birth right to be with him. The others didn't matter and it never had been a problem for him to be invisible and uninteresting kid in school. He kind of liked that people didn't pay him much attention. So today why it bothered him so much.

 

Why did it feel like that he had been insulted and humiliated, because to be honest he had been like this for ten years of his life--completely and utterly invisible.

Then why, when today he was stood in the gathering near the preserve among the other Omegas, waiting to be chosen by an Alpha, who would claim him and mate with him but the thing was he kept waiting. It should have felt normal, he had had been like this--invisible to the others before. In school, in the streets or in the market or anywhere else.

 

But for Stiles today had been an eye-opener. Today he could actually relate to the feelings that he had always shoved deep inside of him and never dared to give a peek at it. He felt broken.

 

It had been almost two years that he had lost his father and had been adopted by Scott's mother Mellissa after two months of his stay at a foster care. He could relate to the feeling he felt when he got the news of his father Sheriff Stilinksi's, death in a shootout at the Beacon Hill mall. He felt lost then, he felt broken. The pain of his lost was there but it was until he was adopted by Mellissa he hadn't cried for his lost. He was grieving but he hadn't shred a tear because he was scared that being week would make him more vulnerable, an omega without an Alpha, father or mate was vulnerable. Until he was in Scott's room cradled in the arms of his best friend and Stiles cried, heart wrenching, soul piercing cry, howling his pain, till he had blacked out.

 

Today he felt that same pain, he felt lost when the crowd had started to disperse. He stood there for nearly twenty odd minutes or so to gather his thoughts. He kept snapping his head from right to left and saw as thirteen unmated omegas of Beacon hills who had got chosen by Alphas' of different parts of California, moving towards the deeper parts of the preserve where, the second part of the ceremony would take place. The chase and after that the claiming ritual.

 

He felt humiliated because none of the Alpha's thought he was worthy to be claimed. When the Alphas' one by one rounded around the gathering to choose their mates, none bother to pay him any attention of any form. There were few who brushed past him, their arms slightly touched his own arms. And even fewer looked at him for a brief moment, then shook their head and turned on their heels.

 

He stood their and watched as Erica one of the omega he knew from his biology class got chosen by the Alpha Vernon Boyd, a local Alpha, then there was Heather another Omega who was his partner in English class when he was in eight grade, got chosen by Alpha Aiden of the Alpha pack and his twin brother Ethan chose Danny Mahealani the goalie of the lacrosse team.

 

He wasn't surprised to see Lydia Martin, the most popular Omega of the school and in the Beacon Hills got chosen by Alpha Jackson Whittmore of Whittmore pack one of the wealthiest pack of Beacon county. Stiles could hear surprised murmurs around him; he snorted inwardly and thought it was foolish to think that Jackson wouldn't choose Lydia. It was an inevitable causeway, because rumours had it that Jackson had started courting Lydia before the Biannual Choosing Ceremony-- the ceremony where the Omegas' were chosen by the Alphas'.

 

After the ceremony got over, Stiles drove his car at a stupid speed, broke few traffic laws on his wake and he couldn't care less , for he knew there wasn't his father anymore that he should be scared of being scolded or grounded with no cell phone or computer for a week and he was no more a kid.

 

It was raining heavily and when the jeep hit a grove, the water splashed on the either side. Stiles drove in a maniacal speed, through the rain, wind and water drops pelting on his face. His vision blurs from the tears he had been holding off, that were now flowing freely. His throat was clogged, heart pounding in a thundering rhythm, his stomach crumpled into knots. His chest hurt so bad. His skin felt like there was a low burn underneath and above was this irritable itching from being clothed . If he hadn't know better he would have been confused and mildly scared about his body. But he knew what the symptoms were for.

 

Stiles couldn't blame anyone except for himself and his curiosity. He hadn't been expecting something else to occur in the ceremony, though. He hadn't excepted an Alpha to choose him, which was quite okay for him considering the circumstances and what he was. He knew he was considered an abomination of the society, had been for a while now. It wasn't new that he was ignored by the Alphas, he was always ignored, anyway. No Alpha with a rightful mind would choose him as his mate, at least not in public. They all knew that he would be a baggage claim. But the thing is Stiles' life wasn't always like this.

 

The rain glistered like crystal by the streetlight, the windshield was frosty making it difficult to see the road. Stiles took a sharp turn, the tyres skidded on the wet road, splashing more water and making screeching noises. He didn't relent the accelerator for once. He had crossed the speed limit and again he couldn't care less; there was no one to nag him. Mellissa would scold or ground him but he didn't care, all he wanted to do was to get the hell out of the place. The burning underneath his skin had intensified, the heat pooling between his thighs made his whole body twitchy. The clothes he was wearing was making him uncomfortable and sweaty, the material felt rough as a sand paper over his heat simulated skin . He felt heady and the scent of the Alphas still lingered around him. He shouldn't have gone to the ceremony, he knew this would've happened. But damn him and his curiosity.

When he was twelve when his first heat hit me, he never had thought then that his heats would be so miserable. He had always dreamt of having a perfect Alpha and companion, like his mother used to tell him tales of the Alphas and Omega. How perfect they were for each other; each others missing piece of puzzle, the other half of their soul. So he pretty much assumed that whatever he did with himself, there would always be an Alpha waiting for him. Like all the other ordinary Omegas.

 

Deaton had told him that there were other Omega's like him. He wasn't some sort of mistake or a gene error. Omegas always struggled with their sex, mainly the males and it wasn't unheard of that a female also had this kind of problem. Stiles was a born girl with a mind of boy. He wasn't sure what it was, but wherever he looked at his developing body he would get grossed out. He felt things were not in their right place. He body didn't comply with his mind and the worst part being a girl by birth, he didn't ever had periods. He was an Omega, his scent proved it. He smelt like any ordinary omega, had heats after every three months like any ordinary Omega. So he wasn't sure whether he was a girl with no menstrual cycle or a boy with girl body parts.

 

The best option for him was T-therapy and later to go under the knife which he had when he was seventeen and got his lady chest removed. He was happy with all the results; he was a guy now. A male omega like Danny and Greenberg. So he thought it wasn't a big deal. Had he known that his this decision would be life altering, he might not have gone with the therapy. But by the time he was made aware of his situation, it was too late and he'd already become known as the abomination. When he was confused about his sex, Alpha's used to appreciate him and now they call him a trashcan and despise his existence.

 

During his heat week, there would be all sorts of gifts awaited for him on the porch as an offer to court him. Stiles was young and had a very protective Alpha and father. He wasn't allowed to except those offering until he was an adult. Stiles didn't understand why, it was nothing new in being mated when an omega is sixteen or seventeen because biologically their body was ready to be mated. Later when he asked Scott, his dear Beta friend told him that, the offering where not for formally to court Stiles but to be his heat mate, to be more precise -- to fuck him and then let go.

 

Hearing that Stiles blanched, all colours drained out of his face. He had never heard to anything like that, his mother had always told him that heats where for mated pair. She had never told him there were casual affairs with alphas and omega. Heck he didn't even know that after getting knotted it was possible to move on. He assumed that it was his mother way to make him understand the bond between a mated Alpha and an Omega and she didn't want him to get himself a heat mate, but a proper mate and a life long one.

 

Therefore, Stiles steered himself clean from all those lousy Alphas and their stupidly expensive gift. He waited for his Alpha, he waited for the Choosing Ceremony; that allowed the Omegas who were eighteen and above to take part and get chosen by the Alphas. Everyone waited for this ceremony, so did Stiles.

 

He dashed the angry tears away with the back of his hand, keeping a tight grip on wheel with another, that his knuckles turned white. The jeep was speeding further down the road away from Beacon hills. The clattering sound as the rain hitting the tin roof increased, the jeep door rattled reminding him that the it wasn't new anymore for his rash driving. Stiles wasn't even bothered that he was risking his life like this and why would he, life without an Alpha would be miserable for him so why not end it. If he knew that life was not always how people liked to call it, amazing, wonderful and some other shit. He would've planned better, worked harder, but he was naive, young and woefully unprepared for the big, scary, world of life. He would have remained a girl.

 

Now, he looked back at the past with strange fondness. While he lived it, it seemed hard but now it seemed so incredibly easy. Especially now when his present seemed impossible and future dire and bleak. He life without an Alpha would be miserable. He knew it. The pain in his lower abdomen was a hard reminded of the truth. The burning of his skin, the feverish feeling, the feeling of emptiness were all the reminders that he hated.

 

A chocked sob slipped his lips, tear streamed down his wet cheeks; he was scared of life now. Scared to be alone. Heat wasn't one of main things that frightened him, but the bullies were. The humiliation he suffered, how the Alphas and the beta scorned him, sneered at him. How they manhandled him and forced him to give them blowjobs in the corners of a dark alley. He wasn't a sex worker but to save his life he had to do it. He could have gone for help, could've told Scott but he didn't. He knew the police won't be much of a help and Scott, he couldn't risk his life. Stiles was still alive and breathing. He could handle it.

Stiles slammed his fist on the steering angrily. He wished he could handle them. All the beating, the sexual harassment, the humiliation he faced every day. He wished he was strong, he wished that he would have been an Alpha and not a meek pathetic excuse of an Omega.

 

"For once why can't things be good." He hissed through his clinched teeth and took another turn. He didn't know where he wanted to go, he was on the high way near the end of the Beacon hill preserve. He could hear muffled howling of the Alpha and Omega through the rain, each howling meant that a pair was mated and bonded and each howling was a broken glass pierching throw his heart. Stiles didn't notice the approaching light at first but when he did, he steered the wheel sharply. The car bumped, swivelled, the tyres screeched and it rolled right of the road. Stiles heart flip-flopped, eyes wide open, his vision still hazy as the car jerked hitting the ragged ground. His tighten his grip on the wheel to take control but his jeep moved erratically and slammed into a rock or tree Stiles didn't had the time to notice as he hit his head on the wheel and lost his conscienceless.

 

Consciousness returned in waves. The first being brief, happening moments after he blacked out. He saw a light flaring, his ears were ringing and then nothingness returned.

 

He left was if he was swimming, je fought for consciousness and painful opened his eyes the second time. His vision was blurry and kaleidoscopic, he blinks few times to focus. The whole world was upside down. He gasped out for breath, there was a burn in his lungs, making him feel dizzy. The last thing he saw were two legs darkness claimed his mind once more.

 

The next time it was because he felt like he couldn't breathe. He was choking on something, coughing. When his eyes opened he was staring at the flat, gray ceiling, he blinking again, few times tried to conjure his semblance, a sharp pain shoot in his head and fell back into unconsciousness.

 

He woke again, in the same position, pain pulling him out from unconsciousness. It was a dull throbbing he couldn't ignore. Everything felt heavy. His thoughts were slow and dim. He couldn't see as well as was he used to. It was as if he was looking down a long tunnel, black on all sides. He blinked and moaned, his throat closing up. Someone cradled his head, pressed a cold rim to his lips and encouraged him to drink. And then the white fog billowed over him and he was asleep again.

 

His sleep was dreamless, broken only by wakefulness on random occasions. He woke shivering the next few times. When he was lucid enough to think, he wondered why he was still in pain, why he was so cold. But the confusion never lasted long. When ever he woke up he felt someone presence, and smelt something that stirred his body. He could feel the heat burning him, he whimpered when a cool wet material touched his forehead and then fingers carded through his hair lulling him back to unconsciousness.

 

Soft chirping and cooing of birds brought him back gain. He tried to open his eyes but he didn't have enough energy to do so. The first thing he discerned when he regained consciousness was the intense burning of his skin. Behind his closed eye lids memories flashed.

The soft smile of his mother  
The goofy laughter of his father  
The lopsided grin of Scott  
His life, how he used to spend his summer afternoon with his mother in the backyard.  
He could hear the soft lullaby his mother used to sing.  
The day his father because the Sherriff.  
The first time Scott got selected in the try out.

 

Every memories swamped him, washed over him, good or bad didn't matter, reminisce was hurtling and hurtful, emotions ran high and his desire to live lessened.

 

Tears trickled down the corner of his eyes. He felt someone gently wiped away the tears. "hey it's alright. You are safe now." A voice Stiles didn't recognize said. It was a man though.

 

The hand drifted down and cupped his cheek. He moaned as leaned into the warm touch. He heard a soft chuckle of the unrecognized voice. "I'm here for you." He felt soft press of lips on his forehead. He shivered as the man sighed through the kiss. "You're in heat do you know that?" The man enquired as his hand trail down his neck.

Stiles whimpered and tried to force open his eyes. He could feel himself more. The intensity of heat wouldn't let him sleep. He could feel the thick wetness pooled between his legs and the scent of the man, all fresh and clearwater mixed with a hint of cinnamon wasn't helping his case. He knew the man was an Alpha, because a Beta scent won't affect an Omega like this. The idea of with an Alpha scared him, what if the Alpha knew what he was and kicked him out?

 

An uneasy feeling rose in him, causing his stomach to churn and vile rushed up his throat. His eyes popped open, he flipped on his side, edging towards the end before propping up on his elbow and heaved out on the floor. He gushed and gushed until there was nothing but dry empty cough. Fuck fuck fuck... He cursed inwardly, winching and coughing.

 

A hand rubbed on his back soothingly, "I think it might help." The man said, making Stiles' eyes snap up to focus on him. The man had his eyebrows knitted together in an unpleasant manner as his eyes were trained on the floor.

"Oh my good, I am so sorry, so sorry." Stiles rushed to explain. "I didn't mean to puke on your floor. It just happened, I didn't mean to do it. I fucking sorry. Please, don't kick me out. I'll leave, I promise. I will clean the mess and leave." He babbled incoherently, his eyes moving back and forth between the man and the floor. He wanted to kick himself for messing it up; no Alpha would tolerate this.

 

"It's okay. I'll clean it." The man's eyes were on Stiles for a brief moment and back on the floor. The man shook his head mildly before standing up. "You take rest. Sleep if you want. I'll get his cleaned" he gestured towards the puddle on the floor, " And get you some soup." With that said the man strode out of the room, leaving Stiles alone and confused.

 


	2. chapter 2

"Stiles" Stiles said soft, still staring at the space that the man had just inhabited. For a moment he was confused, mind fogged with uncertainties; but when the darkness vignetting his mind cleared enough, he found himself to be little amused. He expected the Alpha to lash out at him for messing his bedroom. The room definitely belonged to the Alpha; every breath of air he took, invisible dust suspended in the air mingled with the heady scent of Alpha tingled his nostrils.

 

Which exactly wasn't good concerning the circumstance under which he was. He should leave, it wasn't a good idea to stay with an Alpha, although the voice in the back of his mind was overjoyed, but if he could sum up a little bit of rationality he was sure he would've made a run by now. He was in heat for crying out loud. He couldn't stay here and wait to get humiliated...again.

 

The Alpha seemed to be good though, but then again, he hadn't seen Stiles without clothes or what he hid underneath his pants. Instantly, Stiles' eyes dropped down on the duvet gathered in his lap and he froze. All he could see was bare skin of his chest, with light red bruises and a light pink, almost healed laceration on the right side of his chest... He was naked. That was enough for his mind to jump up, he flung the cover from his lap and his eyes moved under it to search whether he was completely naked or there was a little dignity left. 

 

A sigh of relief rushed out of him, when he found himself in his batman boxers. _The Alpha is decent enough not to strip me completely_ he thought as he let the cover fall back on his lap before he flopped back on the bed on a long tired heave of breath.

 

He closed his eyes, turned to his side and inhaled the scent of the Alpha on the pillow. The scent assaulted his senses and just as he thought the pain in his lower abdomen was beginning to ebb, his body jerked, rings of anew pain radiated outwards, making his toes curl, even his nerve endings buzzed; warm wetness drenched his underwear. Biting his lips Stiles stifled a whimper that threatened to escape him.

 

He needed something, he needed to be in his heat room. Although he had never spent his heat with an Alpha but he blessed that nowadays there were options which allowed unmated Omegas to take care of themselves during their heat. He had pillows and covers that had Alpha scents in them. He had vibrations that made him cum; although without a knot it was never that much satisfying but it' was better to have something instead of nothing at all.

 

Stiles sat up, then edged out of the bed on shaky leg and walked towards the door, he thought was the en-suite bathroom. His stomach turned as he approached the door, eyeing the brass handle lock he reached it out with his shaky, dainty hand and twisted it before pushing the door to open. 

 

As the door swung back, he stumbled through the door, heat ridden mind barely functioning. He locked the door behind him. Panting, he approached the pearl white sink and gasped it with both of his hands, bracing himself. He licked his lips with a quick flick of his tongue and looked up at his reflection on the glass; he had seen this look on him before: A flush spread across his chest till the tip of his ears. Cheeks red, eyes glassy, pupils blown out, lips pink and swollen. He looked detectable and very much fuckable at this moment. He didn't miss the light purple shadow under his eyes and the hollowness in his cheeks. 

 

Working in the coffee shop with little or no care for his food took a toll on him. He should have taken care of himself before his heart, but he needed the extra tips for what he was planing to do. He forgo his health for the pennies he got from the customers, which might not be the brightest of decision Stiles had made, but when he had actually decided something that was actually good for him. What had he actually expected an Alpha to take him and choose him to be their mate. He snorted inwardly. Yeah right.

 

His chin sank slowly upon his heaving chest as he stood there breathing raggedly. The heat rose with time and by the end of today he would go out of his mind and being with an Alpha would only increase his needs. He should leave, but before that he should take care of himself, take a shower wait for the heat bout to subside and then he would thank the Alpha and leave.

 

His fogged mind barely registered someone presence when the door of the bathroom again swung open. Stiles yelped, heart clutched and his head flew up in shock. 

 

"Hey, hey its me." The man stood near the threshold said eyes opened little wide.

 

Stiles swung around to face the man, his tiny claws and fangs sheathed out, eyes blazing purple. His Omega instincts were ready to fight. He wouldn't let an Alpha take advantage of his vulnerable state; though fighting with an Alpha meant death but his instincts was ready for that.

 

Stiles growled at the Alpha pushing himself back till his hips touched the cold ceramic sink. "I'm not a threat." The man reassured holding up both of his hands and took a step forward.

 

"Don't" Stiles snarled back. His nose flared, taking in the Alpha's scent, fear and heat rose like jolts of electricity. 

 

The man frowned at Stiles, his hands fell by his side, "You need help, I won't hurt you." 

 

"No." Stiles shook his head "Please stay there."

 

"Do you even know, how much it is affecting me? It isn't only you. I need you to calm down so I can help." Even through his heat-induced-mind, Stiles could see the concern on his face. 

 

When Stiles didn't respond but unsheathed his fangs and claws and sag back against the sink, the man approached him, cautiously, carefully as if Stiles would attack him and gently took hold of his hand. Stiles hissed as if his skin scorched, but the sensation was relieving for him. The feeling of an Alpha on his sensitive skin sent spark through his body. Scared, his eyes drop at their adjoining hands and he whined.

 

He took Stiles' chin in his palm and tilted his back, Stiles didn't look up. "It's okay. You will feel good." The man said tightening his grip. "I promise I won't do anything that you would want me to do. But you need to cum or it will hurt you more."

 

"I-I.." Words failed to reach him, Stiles nervously licked his lips and glanced up meeting the Alpha's eyes. "S...cared."

 

The man's lips twitched a little, in amusement or in irritation Stiles was unable to decipher. His mind was too much clouded with lust and need, he would think about it late, when he would feel more like himself. The Alpha tugged at his hand, pulling him close and turned him around to face the mirror. Stiles reminded silent following the Alpha's unspoken command, his heart pounded in chest widely. The scent of the Alpha engulfed him as the man moved forward and his hips nudged at Stiles lower back. 

 

Stiles choked on his saliva feeling the Alpha's erection pressed on his back, heat crept up his cheek, blushing profusely his eyes dropped to the sink.

"See you're not the one affected here." said the man, hand gliding up to Stiles' shoulder, cupping the side of his throat and his thumb kneading on the omega's nape. "I'm affected by you, as much as you are. So be wish and let me help you. The pain will increase if you don't cum." 

 

Stiles didn't know whether he should get happy for himself or feel pity for the Alpha. He couldn't argue to what the Alpha had said. He knew how much an Omega in heat could drive an Alpha crazy and how much an Omega could get affected by an Alpha. The burning sensation in his gut was increasing, he felt hot and heavy as if he was suffocating and it was all because of the Alpha right begin him.

 

"I don't need your help." He mumbled quietly, his breathing had increased. His heart jack hammered in his chest as a permanent slow burn settled under his skin. Yes the fucking Alpha was affecting him. He could jump the Alpha's bones right away but he was to making a point that even though he was a desperate Omega now, he wasn't an easy game.

 

"I beg to differ." The man sharp raise of eyebrow challenged Stiles to say otherwise.

 

"You are aroused" The Alpha moved his hand away from his neck. Stiles' breath hitched in his throat when the man ducked his face into the crook of his neck and inhaled. "As hell." and let it out slowly. Warm breath fanned against Stiles' heated skin raising goosebumps on its wake and damn if his leg didn't wobble. He reached out and grasped the sink for purchase. He felt dizzy all of a sudden.

 

"Wait here." The Alpha demanded kissing chastely on Stiles neck then took few steps back watching Stiles' reflection on the mirror before he turned around and walked over to a bathtub.

 

Stiles had an intense urge to turn around and bury his nose into the Alpha neck and take in lungs full of his scent and kiss and nibble his way up the Alpha's neck and nuzzle in under his ears where the scent would more potent. But Stiles didn't move, he stayed frozen at his place staring at the man's reflection with wide eyes, paralysed by his own thoughts.

 

Stiles watched in the mirror, the Alpha ran tap of the tub and let it fill fully, then he took a crystal decanter and poured some of its purple-ish liquid into the bath. The oil pooled at the surface of the water. It smelled like lavender. From another jar he sprinkled into the tub a handful of deep fuchsia flower petals. Reaching into a third jar, The Alpha retrieved a tablet and tossed it into the water. It fizzed and bubbled as it dissolved, releasing a lovely, thick foam. He piled a towel, sponge, and bar of soap on a little glass console next to the tub. Stiles watched with fascination as the Alpha totted around the bathroom and placed the jar back into a armoire--with perfection he would say.

 

Then moving back from the armoire to the tub, Alpha inspected his work and hummed his appreciating with a mild nod of his head before he turned around to face Stiles, "This will help you to relax." he cocked his head towards the bathtub. Stiles could only stare at him. Never in his life he had an opportunity to bathe in such a luxuriously manner. Stiles was more of a shower kinda guy. It was quick and easy way to jump start the day without much hassle. _Does he do this every day?_ Stiles found himself wondering.

 

They stared at each other for a long moment before he tore his gaze away from the Alpha and looked at the bathtub. God it looked amazing and the thought itself relaxed his tensed muscles.

 

The Alpha walked over to him and cupped his face gently. Stiles looked up at him. "Want me to help you?"

 

Help me with what? Stiles thought and something must gave away from his face, as the Alpha's eyes dropped to his lower half and backed up to meet his eyes and raised an eyebrow.

 

Oh my god, Stiles heard jerked away and he stepped back from the Alpha. "No. No I mean. Are you staying or are you getting in the tub we me." He rushed with his enquiry.

 

The Alpha crossed his arms over his chest and shrugged. "Told you I would help. I can make you cum in the tub or outside. Upto you."

 

Stiles eyes bulged out by the man's brazenness. "W...what no. You don't have to do anything to me. I'm fine this way. You did so much, I mean" he gestured towards the tub. "I'll be fine. You can leave now. I mean yeah. I'll be fine alone. It's cool, I can handle taking a bath." He cringed inwardly for his blabbering but he couldn't stop. Fuck the man surely wanted to get into his pants. And fuck if he would allow that to happen... Not so soon at least.

 

The Alpha rolled his eyes, "Take off your underwear." He ordered as he pulled his t-shirt over his head and dropped it by his side, then move to unfasten the strings of his pyjama and let it drop down around his ankles.

 

Stiles blanched, his jaw slacked as he starred agape at the hunk of a man in front of him and he was sure his jaw had hit the floor. All muscle and perfection with cuts that could rival Adonis. Oh goodness he could cum just by the sight. All he'd once dreamt of was right there within reach. All he had to do was reach out and take it.

 

"Are you going to stand there?" The man's voice snapped Stiles out of the trance. "Get in." The Alpha turned around, drop his underwear and got into the tub gracefully. Stiles didn't miss the minute details as his thigh muscles bunched when he flexed his leg before putting it in the water and holy fuck that ass. Pert, firm and yes fuck him lord. He was stupid enough to say no to that... Hmmm how big might be his cock??? Would it fit in him fine or would it hurt... No no Stiles don't go there, the territory was dangerous and out of bounds. 

 

What the fuck was wrong with him. One moment he was ready to tuck his tail between his legs and ran for his life and now he was drooling over the sexy Alpha ... He blamed the hormones to taint his mind. Yes had to be. Because Stiles was not at all going in that tub. Nope, never, not in this fucking millennium. God Help!!


	3. Chapter 3

In retrospect, Stiles shouldn't trust an Alpha, they all betrayed him. He knew one step towards the tub would bring him down. He was essentially helpless in the face of his own instincts, the Omega in him wanted the awaiting Alpha. He wanted to be ravaged and knotted, give in to his primal urges, their body fluids seeping through their skin, scent mingling making them one. He was old enough not to hold back the his wolf's needs. He was born to be knotted and bred by an Alpha. The rising heat in his body was meddling his conscious mind but that would stop him to overthink.

 

Stiles felt drunken, the pain was a blurry warmth serenading his foggy senses. He took a step towards the tub, a wave of anticipation swept his mind and fell on his knees. He was done being the dull, dutiful son. He wanted to stand out, wanted to be different and maybe this Alpha would help him realize that he wasn't an abomination. He was not his mom, he wasn't like his dad. They all had left him to fend for himself, he wouldn't do that to himself. He had the right to be happy. He wanted to be happy.

 

His breathing was ragged rushing out of his parted lip, his bottom lips trembling. He looked up at the Alpha. "Please." He whimpered while a teardrop trailed down his flushed cheek.

 

The Alpha looked at him sombrely, eyes boring into him and it racked a shiver through his body's . Stiles wanted to indulge in endless hours of heat sex with this Alpha. He was sure of that, more determined.

 

The Alpha held his hand out, "Come here, sweet boy." He voice was soft but clear enough to penetrate through Stiles' heat-ridden mind.

 

Stiles approached the bathtub crawling on shaky hands and legs, then braced his hands on the edge of the tub and pushed himself up on his keens. His heart raced. Not from fear, but from excitement as the man lowered his head and nipped on the sensitive skin of his neck. His groin clenched as pleasure sizzled through his body.

 

The Alpha began to suck and nip his way up his neck, "Get in, let me taste you more." He whispered and lifted his head slowly. Stiles glanced up meeting the Alpha's eyes and air rushed of his lungs. He had never seen such beautiful clear-pale green pools fringed by thick lashes that threw such mysterious promises. Every morsel of doubt evaporated from Stiles' mind, feeling more confident he wrapped his hands around the Alpha's neck never breaking the eye contact.

 

The man's lips twitched a little; a hint of smile graced those luscious lips tempting Stiles even more. Eyes darkened with desires as he lift himself up on his knees sloshing water over the edge of the tub and onto the floor and scooped Stiles up.

 

Startled, Stiles squawked hands flailing and then he felt water drenched his body. "Alpha!" He cried out making grabby hands for purchase. An arm snaked around Stiles' waist and the Alpha pulled him up against his chest.

 

Stiles heaved grasping the rim of the tub on both the side and leaning back against the man. "Don't do that ever again."

 

Closing his eyes, Stiles tilted his head back feeling a sharp nip of teeth on his on his pulsing flesh followed by a wet glide of tongue. A shudder racked his body, and moisture pulsed in his pussy.

 

"I promise I won't." The man said against his neck as he glided his hands up over Stiles' legs. "Up." He tapped the side of Stiles' hip, indicating for him to lift.

 

Just like that the spell broke, Stiles' whole body tensed, eyes snapped open, snapping him back abruptly to the realms of reality. A ice cold water drenched his libido. All the harrowing incident swamped his mind, intense fear and humiliation swallowed him up. Waves of apprehension engulfed him.

 

"No, no no." He pulled away from the embrace mumbling hoarsely and shaking his head. "I can't d...do this." Stiles wiggled to scramble on his feet splashing more water out of the tub. His flight instincts kicked in. His hands slipped making him fall on the Alpha's chest but Stiles tried again. _Run, Run, Run_ only echoed in his mind

 

"Wait!" The Alpha said urgently, tightened his arm around Stiles' waist stopping him and pulling his back.

 

Stiles struggled, tears drenched his face. "No. No please." His voice cracked. "Please don't do this. Don't please." _Run, Run, Run_

 

"Stop that." The Alpha growled. "Stop calm down. Please."

 

"You don't want to do his." Stiles cried out. "You really don't" His heart pounded harder in his chest, his breathing became short and laboured. He knew he was about to have a panic attack. He needed to leave, he shouldn't have stayed here. It was a mistake. _Run, Run, Run_

 

The Alpha clasping his nape captured his mouth in a brutal kiss and before Stiles realised what was happening, the man slipped his palm in Stiles' underwear cupping his mould.

 

Stiles stilled abruptly and gasped. A cry welled up in his throat. Everything was still, silent all he could hear was two frantic pounding of heats as the Alpha's tongue delved into his mouth caressing him, kissing him.

 

The Alpha pulled away slightly, his lips touching Stiles', their hot breath mingling, their foreheads touching together as they stood still.

 

"I know. I know what I am doing and I am not going regret anything." The Alpha murmured against Stiles' lip while slipping one finger into his core and his thumb pressing lightly on his clits.

 

Time stood still. Shivery sensations trailed from fingertips. Stiles stood spellbound, immobilised by the seductive magic of his touch. New wave of excitement and anticipation rolled through Stiles and he moaned.

Stiles rocked his hips, "Ahhh." And gasped when a finger penetrated him deeper stretching him. The sensation stirred his senses, blood raced in his veins, skin prickles with heat.

 

He looked up at the Alpha, reached with his trembling hands, caressed his dark stubbly cheek before he drew him close. "I...'m v..virgin." He moaned as another finger slipped in and moved in and out in a slow rhythm.

 

"I know." The man said thickly. "Could smell your all night and day. Fresh and ripe ready to be knotted and bred by some Alpha." Sensual light intensified in his green eyes making them even more darker. He bent and buried his face into Stiles' neck.

 

His fingers worked faster, a little hard coaxing Stiles to wrap his arms around the man neck. His inner muscles quivered, heat rolled in his gut like some wildfire and the wolf in him howled.

 

"Alphaaa." Stiles cried out, orgasm shook him to his core as his muscles squeezed around the finger. He barely heard the low rumbling hum of appreciation.

 

Stiles slumped against the man's chest, panting. He clung to the man shamelessly, forehead resting on his broad hard chest as his body rid through the aftershock.

 

Stiles eyes remained closed, bleary opened them when the man scooped him up and walked out of the bathroom. Then he felt soft plush matters touch his back as he was laid on the bed before the Alpha spooned him from behind and pulled a comforter over them. The warmth having himself wrapped in the arms of the Alpha was serenading and lulled him to sleep.

 

 

* * *

* * *

 

 

**Two Months Later**

 

The froth pipe spurted out with a hoarse sibilant noise, half spilling and half filling the jar.

 

"Shit, man" Stiles moaned as he slammed the coffee jar on the kitchen top. Brown liquid sprinkled the stainless steel top making a mess of the section around the huge spaceship-like machine.

 

Stiles was fully aware of his inability to handle the coffee maker and neither did he wanted to make it work anymore.

 

Three months in Bobby's Bistro and he still had to struggle with such a stupid thingy.

 

"Need some help, Hon." Heather, a fellow waitress and his friend chirped behind him, neck craned over his shoulder. His shoulder sagged as he threw the moping towel on the kitchen top dejected.

 

"This twat and I are never making up." He conceded, eyeing the coffee maker begrudgingly.

 

She gave Stiles a rueful grin patting his shoulder. "Try and try till you succeed but anyway you get the table I'll take care of our friend here."

"Thank you so much." Stiles said grabbing a tray and making his way towards the recently vacated table.

 

Stiles wasn't lazy, he was hardworking and persevering so he would redeem himself for his lack of knowledge about the spaceship-like machine. And he didn't want to lose his job too.

 

"I think I should learn to make it work or he'll kick me out." He said thoughtfully loading the tray with the empty coffee mugs and plates.

 

"Don't worry about that Bobby is a softie." Heather fired up the machine, the hoarse sound of the liquid rushing out of the frothing pipe filled the bistro. "More over he likes you." She called louder over the gushing noise as she fixed a tray with mugs, spoons sachet of sugar all the while rotating the jar with ease.

 

Stiles rolled his eyes but smile down at the table nonetheless. Bobby was a nice Alpha and his interest in Stiles quipped Stiles own interest but his wolf still mourns for that mysterious Alpha. After the heat ended Stiles found himself alone in the huge manson, the Alpha had left without a note or anything which of course left him feeling wistful for a while.

 

Stiles wasn't angry or hurt, he could understand; no Alpha would mate with him. The mysterious Alpha hadn't knotted Stiles, therefore they didn't heat bonded with each other, which made the departing little easier for him.

 

Stiles still couldn't remember how many times the Alpha made him cum; only with his mouth and fingers after their bathtub encounter. It was all hazy and his heat ridden mind was out of control for that matter so remembering what happened was impossible. All he could remember about the Alpha were his sludgy green eyes; he didn't even get the man's good name.

 

"Yeah sure." He wiped the table, collected the tray and made his way to the back of the bistro. "Which is good considering that he like me like a brother." Stiles added while he dumped the tray by the side before he loaded the dishwasher.

 

"S'all good Stiles."

Stiles looked over his shoulder to Boyd, the newly mated Alpha, the other owner and cook of Bobby's bistro. "All good."

 

Boyd nodded looking at Stiles before he walked out of the backdoor holding his phone near his ear.

 

Stiles resumed his own work, staking plates in the dishwasher while humming softly to himself. When he was done he wiped his hand in his apron and called Heather.

 

"Do you need anything or I'll leave." He asked her as she pushed through the wing door of the kitchen.

 

"Nah, you can leave." She rolled her shoulder and sat on a chair checking the last order slips.

 

"Great see'ya tomorrow then." Stiles pulled out his apron and hung it up. "Bye Alpha Boyd." He called out seeing the Alpha walking through the door.

 

Boyd absentmindedly waves his hand over his head and made his way towards the back office.

 

Stiles weaved his way through the bistro table, pushed his way out of the door onto the narrow backstreet and was soon pelted by heavy drops.

 

He looked up and smiled sadly. For the past two months rain had always brought back bittersweet memories of the anonymous Alpha.

 

Sighing he shielded his head with his denim jacket and ran down the alley. He popped through the puddles, his converse did nothing to keep his feet dry as his squelched with each hurried stride to the bus stop.

 

He got on a bus and quickly secured a seat at the back wrapping his arms around his body trying to keep him little warm through the short journey. As soon as the bus stopped two blocks away from his house, he jumped out and ran for his shelter.

 

Bounding up the stairs, and barged through the door before resting his back on the door, gaining control over his breath and shrugged the wet jacket off him. Cool breeze waft around his wet t-shirt clinging body springing goosebump on his skin.

 

"Stiles." Melissa came rushing down the hall with a plush yellow towel. "You two boys are terror."

 

"That's your problem solve us if you can." He chuckled, kicking of his sodden shoes and hanging his jacket on the coat rack.

 

"I could ground you both. Case solved." She crouched and picked up the converse with a wrinkled nose.

 

"How long you haven't washed them"She said turning towards the shoe rack, dropping them there before she turned to Stiles and held the towel open for him.

 

Stiles smiled, his dampened mood shifted instantly. Melissa wasn't his biological mother; the woman gave birth to him had left him and his father long back, he couldn't even remotely remember her except for her soft smile and laugh. Melissa was no less than his mother or maybe more.

 

Stiles wasn't that tall but still bent a little. Laughing he shook his wet hair playfully at her, spraying water on her face.

 

"Hey stop that." She shrieked, tipped on her toes to hold his head between the towel before ruffling thoroughly. "Change your clothes I don't want you sneezing around like your brother. Dinner is ready."

 

"I'm batman remember. Nothing can harm me." He said leaning forward to kiss her cheek before making his way up the stairs to his room.

 

He peeled off his wet T-shirt, mopped his face, and dropped it beside him. He went into the bathroom, pulled the towel from the rack and wiped his upper torso and tossed it on the floor. Then quickly changed in dry clothes and made his way back down to the kitchen.

 

Stiles found Melissa stooped over the over stirring a pot - soup undoubtedly and Scott had his head nestled in his arms on the table.

 

"Smells good." Stiles announced his presence and sat down in the chair beside Scott before nudging him. Scott looked up and scowled. "What?" Stiles asked with raised eyebrow.

 

"I can't smell or hear anything." Scott groaned and put his head back down.

 

Stiles chuckled, patting his best friends head, ignoring the low rumbly growl. "You'll live dude."

 

Melissa waltzed in with the steaming pot. "Of course he would." She said drily, flicking Scott a sharply assessing look, probably checking if he was badly put. She set pot on the table turned a frown at Stiles.

 

"I'm good." Stiles knew the look and reassured her, running his hand through his half dry hair. Scott lifted his head lazily and slumped back into the chair.

 

"You are great I wish I'd immunity like you." Scott sneezed noisily into a handkerchief and coughed a little. His eyes and nose both were red and he really looked like a mess.

 

"It's the tattoo wolf bane will make you little weak." Stiles said picking out the spoon that Melissa had set down for him.

 

Melissa smiling fondly, embraced Scott and rubbed his back. "Just a little rest and my strong Beta son will be fine by tomorrow." She released him and pointed at his bowl.

 

"So how was your day." Scott asked while Melissa poured soup in his bowl.

 

Stiles signed, his shoulder sagged dramatically. "I can't get on the coffee machine when ninety percent of people order some kind of coffee."

 

"Don't worry you will make it." He said confidently as though he was an expert on the damn thing. Well, Stiles always had been perfect for Scott.

 

Stirring his spoon in the soup bowl, Stiles shrugged his shoulder a little. "It's been three months Bobby or Boyd wouldn't keep me just for cleaning table."

 

"Apart from work, was your day good?" Melissa interjected as she settled in her chair.

 

Stiles smiled. "Yes of course."

 

Melissa hummed taking a sip from her spoon. "I' m glad that you are trying to interact with people. A young wolf like you should always feel free to mingle with other wolves." She eyed Stiles cautiously. "I don't want you to feel bounded to us if you find your mate."

 

"I like to live here with you guys." He argued quietly, bracing himself for the epic lecture. Stiles loved his new family, he loved Melissa like a mother and Scott had always been his best friend cum brother, leaving them for a mate who Stiles knew he would never have was unreal for him. And the Alpha he wanted was gone before Stiles could even understand his presence.

 

"I told you I'm happy." Stiles sighed, his appetite was lost.

 

"Happy hiding from a world that has so much to offer." She asked seriously. "Start living Stiles before you lose your time. Get you skinny ass out their and use you Omega scent to get a handsome strong Alpha, sniff them out use your Omega charm and get laid."

 

"Mel!!" Stiles choked on a piece of bread but Melissa wasn't amused at all.

 

"Bare truth" Melissa said on a sigh. "Take what life throws at you. Deal with it, don't run away like your..."

 

"Mel please." Stiles growled softly in a warning.

 

Sensing the uneasiness skyrocketing Scott jumped to Stiles' rescue. "Come on Maa, let's not talk about this. I'm tired, I've work tomorrow morning I need to rest and can't afford to listen Stiles whining all night. Drop it for now." Scott looked at Stiles giving him a slight wink before turned his attention back to his mother. "And anyway Stiles is special so the Alpha has to be special too, we can't risk to hurry here."

 

Melissa's eyes flickered between both of her son warily before she slumped back into the chair on huff of frustration. "Fine work tomorrow no nagging tonight."

 

Ducking his head Stiles sunk his teeth on a bread and smiled around the bite, Scott McCall was the ultimate knight in shining sliver armour for him.


	4. Chapter 4

Stiles stared at the coffee machine but today he wasn't scowling at his worst enemy rather smiling with triumph. Yes he had cracked the devil and befriended him.  
He was awed by the correct amount of foam, as smooth as silk and the little dust of chocolate forming the perfect heart on the top. He took a sip and sighed in delight. 

"It's a shame I get to have this not the customers." He mused pressing his lips on the warm rip of the mug.

"That good huh?" Heather asked watching him with anticipation.

"Perfection." He said and set the mug on the kitchen top. "We're friends now."

"Yay!" She squealed throwing a fist bump at him.

Stiles laughed match her enthusiasm and bumped his fist with her.

"Finally you don't have to worry about Bobby or Boyd."

Smiling at his friend, Stiles collected the mug from the kitchen top and took another sip. Yes one of his worry about losing his job has omitted for now. Although he knew both Bobby or Boyd weren't the usual snobbish Alphas' but he couldn't risk his job at their leniency.

The door of the bistro swung opened squealing the hinges. "Lunch time rush" he said looking at the customer and setting his mug back on the top. "I get that one"

"Oh, he is on a roll." Heather laughed. Stiles beamed at her, making his way over to the arrived customer.

"What can I get you?" He asked plucking his pen out of the front pocket of his apron ready to jot down the order. When the customer didn't reply, he looked up and was startled by the intensity scrutiny thrown at his way.

Stiles cleared his throat nervously. "Sir."

The man eyes widened a little and instantly Stiles nose tickled by the mild musky Alpha scent exuding from the man. "Umm. Cappuccino. Please." 

Stiles blinked his eyes, few times gathering himself as he jot down the order. "Sure." He smiled and scuttled away from the wide eyed Alpha. He was taken aback by such reaction, normal Alphas' didn't give him that much attention if they weren't planning to bully him or cornering him in an alley to manhandle him.

"Caught the Alpha's attention huh." Heather teased nudging him with her shoulder.

Heat crept up his cheeks, his ducked his head, "Stop it, Heather." He snapped half-heartedly retrieving takeaway cups from the self and placing it under the froth pipe before pressing the right button.

"He is watching." She muttered quietly in a singsong voice.

"Heather, Stop it,!"

"When you go to him, release your scent he'll know you're interested."

Stiles shoot her an incredulously look, "No!" He blurted too loudly and quickly looked over his shoulder. 

_Oh! The Alpha was looking at me._

"I'm not interested." He grumbled turning around and fixing the coffee.

"He is cute." She concluded. Stiles couldn't disagree on that but he was very uninterested and was still pathetically hung upon that unknown piercing green eyed Alpha.

"Please Heather I'm not interested." It wasn't completely a lie, his first priority was his job and family. His failure in the mating ceremony had given him enough reasons to not to think about mating all together and truth be told he was still stupidly hung upon the unknown piercing green eyed Alpha. 

Heather rolled her eyes giving a dramatic effect to her I-don't -believe-you look, shrugged and left Stiles to finish his work. 

Stiles shook his heard smiling as he fixed the coffee, sprinkled some dust chocolate on the foam before covering it cup with a lid. The he turned around and walked over to the counter. "Four dollars, please." He went to set the cup down but the Mr. Wide Eyed Alpha intercepted him taking it from his hand, ensuring contact as he did so.

"Thank you." The Alpha said softly and Stiles couldn't help but look up at the Alpha. Chaotic emotions clumped up in his throat. No Alpha _except_ the green eyed one had been so tender with him.

Stiles blushed profusely and tentatively took his hand away from the Alpha accepting the money. "I'll get you change." He stuttered.

"Keep the change." The Alpha shook his head mildly, eyes grazing all over Stiles' face. "I would like to talk to your Pater."

Stiles gasped inwardly and heard Heather chuckling from the table she was cleaning. An Alpha proposing to court an Omega like this was becoming a new trend. People weren't that backward these days that they would wait for the Mating Ceremony to choose their mate. The Ceremony was only to make things official in the eyes of the council, like Lydia and Jackson they courted for a year before they went to the ceremony to make it official. For Stiles it was a big deal, because this was the first Alpha who had actually shown interest in him to go public and court him. Stiles was tempted to accept the offer but then he remembered what he was-- an abomination.

"I'm sorry but I've an Alpha." Then he quickly realized his mistake that he had no Alpha scent to mark him. "We're waiting for the ceremony to make it official."

"Of course you have." The Alpha laughed looking embarrassed. "How stupid of me. I didn't recognize the scent on you." He pointed towards Stiles. 

Stiles frowned, looking down at his shirt and realized he was wearing the same shirt he wore on the day of his accident. Stiles looked up at the Alpha and smiled politely trying to ease the awkwardness of the situation

"It's okay don't worry." He reassured feeling guilty for the Alpha. Situations like this weren't taken lightly as he was trying to make it. If he seriously had an Alpha courting him then situations like this led to two Alphas clash to prove dominance over the other. Although now a days these matters were dealt by the council.

"I'm new here but I should have known better to ask you to court like this." He tried to explain. "I hope I didn't piss your Alpha."

Stiles shook his hear smiling reassuring. "Seriously, no harm done." He could feel Heather's shock stare drilling hole through his shirt. He was really tempted to dump a cup of coffee on her. 

"Have a nice though." The Alpha laughed again holding up his cup before he backed away.

"You too." Stiles smiled before looking over to the next customer. "What would you like, sir?"

"Latte no sugar. Make it quick." The man didn't even look at Stiles as he placed his order and fiddled with his phone before he walked away to secure a seat.

Stiles sighed and made his way to the coffee machine. He started fixing a cup when he heard Heather's boot creaking on the wooden flooring nearing him. 

"I can't believe you declined." She whispered harshly.

Stiles continued to work on his third coffee not paying her shock the much deserved heed. "Not interested I told you." 

"But he was the first Alpha that approached you." Stiles cringed inwardly. Yeah he was the first Alpha that had approached and would ever approach him. 

"Never mind." He replied nonchalantly.

"Unbelievable." She muttered and stomped off.

Stiles struggled liked a wounded puppy for a while, avoiding Heather at all cost and pretending to be okay, though he wasn't. Half of him was regretting his decision to decline the Alpha's proposal and his other half was busy daydreaming about the green eyed one. He knew it was his Omega reacting like that but he knew better than to raise hopes. The wanted to forget about the Alpha, forget about what had transpired between them during his heat.

The rest of the day, he tired to keep himself busy, flying in and out of the kitchen, cleaning endless tables and making dozens of perfect coffee which helped to lighten his mood and made him smile. During his break he managed to check up on Scott, but was told off for being worry-ass.

Stiles was so far happy with his work as he reflected seating on a brown leather couch with a coke can during his break. He was feeling a bit tired and hoped the caffeine would help him to rejuvenate.

"Take the trash out, don't fall a sleep on the customers. Heather called over yanking the black sac from one of the bin.

"Okay." Stiles said around a yawn. His head was rested back on the sofa as he resisted the urge to close his eyes and take a little nap and focused on the spotlights in the ceiling. He was really feeling tired today, all he wanted to do was yank the apron off of his body, run straight to his bed and dive under his blanket. He wanted to sleep so badly.

"Anyone working or it's self-service."

Stiles jumped up from the couch at the impatient yet smooth voice and swung around to take the order. He quickly collected his pad and pen rushing to the counter.

"Sorry," he stuttered turning the pad open to jot the order. "What can I get you."

He looked up and froze at the spot. He could believe what he was looking at or at who. All he could see were the familiar pair of piercing green eyes burning into me. Deep, deep in his soul. His gaze drifted down taking in the man's open suit dark blue jacket, waistcoat, white shirt and blue tie. Then his eyes moved up taking in the dark stubble jaw and his slighted part lips. He didn't dare to breath in the man scent in fear of getting into heat then and there. However he sheepishly look up and found those eyes.  
 _This isn't possible, I'm definitely dreaming._

"Do you have a problem of checking out all your customer." The man cocked an eyebrow at him.

Stiles blinked breakout of the trance and looked down at the pad feeling his cheeks pink in embarrassment. 

"What can I get you?" he asked looking up at the man under his lashes. He could summon up enough courage to look straight at the man, although he was bit taken back by the man's harshness of words. He didn't want to get into the bad books of the only Alpha who had ever treated him so well.

"Americano, four shots, two sugars, topped halfway." As the words rolled out of the man's mouth again Stiles was pulled into the trance. All he could hear were the grunts and groans the Alpha made when he jerked himself off on Stiles' chest and coated his body with his cum. 

"Hello?" The man's impatient voice brought Stiles back to the moment. He took a step back in fear the Alpha might snap at him but that idea didn't do any good because it only amplified his vision as he mind captured every inch of the man's gorgeousness. 

He eyes moved where the man planted his palm flat on the counter and leaned forward assaulting Stiles senses with his scent.

"Am I making you uncomfortable." The man asked on a slight scowl.

Stiles hook his head, "What can I get you?" He stuttered feeling more embarrassed.

The man nodded down at Stiles' pen. "My order's on you hand. This is the third time you're asking."

Looking down he frowned as he saw ink strewning all of his fingers. They didn't make any sense not even when he tried to match up the pad to where the pen had trailed off.

He slowly looked up and was thrown off. The man looked smug. He knew what he was doing to Stiles. 

Stiles felt a bit irritated. Firstly the man's acting like a complete stranger as though his hadn't spent Stiles' heat week him, marking each inch of his pale skin with red bite marks and cum.

"Cappuccino." Stiles asked hopefully.

"Americano." The man's countered. "Four shorts, two sugars and topped halfway."

"Coming right up." Stiles snapped himself from his pathetic awestruck state and moved to coffee machine.

This hand shook and heart thudded as he busied himself with the coffee machine. He bashed the filter on the wooden drawer getting rid of the used coffee beans. The thought making loud noises who help him getting back to his senses.... It didn't help. He still felt strange.

He could feel the man's eyes on his back burning his skin through his red hoodie as he filled the filter with new bean and pulled the grinder. He didn't understand why the man was behaving in such an odd fashion. It wasn't that they were stranger. They both knew each other quietly intimately. For God's sake they had spent a the heat together wrapped up in each other arms, mouth sealed in passionate kisses and hands on each of their bodies exploring each other.

Stiles faffed and fiddled with the machine but the machine had gown its own mind, was back it's hostility towards him. The machine took forever to follow any of his orders properly. His shaky hands weren't helping the slightest.

Drawing in a long calming breath, he prayed the heaven above and restarted the machine. This time however Stiles managed to successfully load the filter and the cup underneath. He kept his back straight but anxiety was rolling in him as he silently willed the machine to hurry the hell up. Soon he was done slipping in two sugar ready to fill it up with water.

"Four shorts." The man broke the uncomfortable silence with his soft rasp.

"Pardon." Stiles didn't dare to turn around. His brows furrowed in confusion as he glared at the cup. If only he could turn around sass at the man indignantly and flip him out of the shop. The Alpha was sure now getting on his nerves.

"I ordered four short."

He closed his eyes willing himself not to flip out and pour the whole one shot of the coffee cup he had mistakenly added instead of four. He reopened his eyes added the rest three shorts as quickly as possible and finally turned around to deliver the order.

He found the man sitting on the sofa, relaxed, his lean physique stretched out with no hint of emotion on his face as he tapped his finger on the arm-rest. Images of his naked body glistering in water and sweat flashed in his mind and he somehow little gracefully caught his faltered strides.

Stiles felt stupid as he help up the take away cup before placing it neatly on the counter. The whole day he had handled the machine like a pro but now he was coming off as an incompetent fool.

The man looked at the cup, then at his face. "I want to have it in." His face was serious, his tone flat but shape. Instinctively Stiles eyes flashed kindly and briefly his omega purple under the Alpha'd voice. He blinked and stared at the man as the cogs of his mind rotated. He couldn't understand if the Alpha was being like all the jackass Alphas he had known in his life or was he genuine. The man didn't look like someone who would sit and relax on a cup of coffee in some street-side bistro, he looked more of some kind of champagne bar guy, mingle-with-the-money types.

Shrugging off his confused train of thoughts he grabbed the take away cup transferred the coffee in a cup placing it on a saucer with a teaspoon before taking steady steps over to him.

His hands were little shaky and how hard he tried he couldn't stop the chinking of cup and saucer. He placed the coffee on the table and pivoted on his Converse and quickly escaped. He couldn't wait and watch the man drink his coffee and offer some comments he deadened would be rude, like the man himself.

Stiles virtually busted in through the swinging double door and found Boyd wearing his coat but stilled instantly and looked up at Stiles' way. Stiles averted his eyes from the Alpha and dove straight for the huge metal sink to wash his clammy hands.

"You okay Stiles?" He cringed inwardly hearing Boyd's concerned voice and then he felt his large palm wrapped around his nape giving a light comfortable squeezing and soon Stiles' tensed shoulders sagged. Good Alphas as Stiles liked to classify Boyd and Bobby the two owners of the bistro were real softie. Omegas in distress releases some pheromones that were easily caught by the Alphas and its in their nature to help the struggling Omega and his bosses never hesitated to make him or Heather feel relaxed by reassurance touch. 

"Yeah, I'm fine now. Thank you." He felt anchored and settled but didn't stop rubbing his palms under the water faucet, an easy way to avoid the question he knew was dangling at the tip of the Mocha Alpha tongue.

The phone of the bistro started to ring from the wall, Stiles could feeling the concerned Alpha's eyes on him and his hand kneading on his nape. "If you don't want to talk it is upto you. But if any of my customers misbehaves you come to me. Fine?" 

Stiles nodded looking down at his still scrubbing hands. Boyd sighing, let go of his nape, obviously concluding that Stiles' lips were locked and he walked away to receive the call.

"It's for you, Stiles, I'm out and if by chance Erica rings tell her I went for the community meeting."

"Sure and have a nice weekend, Alpha Boyd." He said drying his hands before he took the call. "Hello?"

"Bilinski, are you busy tonight." It was Bobby. Stiles chuckled to himself hearing him called Bilinski. A year back when Stiles was ready to get off from work, he found a heavily drunk and heartbroken Bobby Finstock in the office and during their candid conversation about the Alpha's life and how his courting Omega left him for a younger and wealthy Alpha, Bobby called Stiles, Bilinski and not Stilinski. The altered surname had become a private joke for them.

"Tonight?"

"Yes, I have a catering contract and I've let down. Could you be the saviour your are I know and help me out."

"Oh! Okay but..."

"I'll pay you well. I'm a desperate man here."

"What are the hours." Stiles sighed leaning against the wall.

"Seven to midnight. Not a hard work. Just walk around with trays of canapés and champagne."

Stiles wanted to snort because his legs were already kill him and he wasn't sure whether they could manage another five hours of torture.

"I need to go home, check on my brother and change. What should I wear?"

"Black. The Parks at 5th Avenue be at the staff entrance by seven. Okay."

"Sure."

Bobby hung up, and Stiles hung his head on a loud heavy sigh. If Finstock was promising a good pay he couldn't say no to that and anyway, he could take a day off tomorrow if required. His attention was pulled to the swing door as Heather busted in and her eyes wide with excitement.

"Have you seen?" Her question quickly reminded Stiles of the stunning Alpha of son name with whom he had spent his heat all naked and moaning but today the Alpha was being so indifferent and difficult.

"Yes." He replied on a small laugh and set the receiver back in the cradle.

"Holy shit Stiles, Alpha like that should carry warning." She looked back into the bistro and fanned herself. "Jesus! He is blowing the steam off the coffee"

"He can hear you, Heather." Stiles gave her a tired look. He didn't need to imagine, he had seen quite a lot of things quite intimately. But the word blowing sprang up some naughty thought in his mind and reminded him of how the Alpha's heavy and hard cock felt around his lips and in his mouth.

Stiles the wayward thoughts away he focused on Heather. "Are you working tonight?"

"Yes, Bobby needs help. He told me to ask you but I know you're not fan of working late night so I told him to call you. By the are you?"

"Yes, I need the money so I guess I could refuse." Stiles unhooked the keys and locked the back door that led to the alley.

Her face broke out in a grin. "Closing time, would you like to go and tell him it's time to go."

Stiles huff a breath through his nose willing his body to comply and not to release unwanted pheromones at the mere thought of looking at the man.

"I'll tell him." He declared, chastising himself inwardly. 

Rolling his shoulders, he walked past Heather and into the bistro coming to an abrupt halt when he saw the man was gone. The feeling of desertion and disappointment came over him as he scanned the area. He bit his lips stifling a whimper. The Alpha had left him again. His wolf wanted to howl in distress.

"No! Where did he go." Heather whined as she pushed past Stiles.

"I don't know." Stiles whispered, slowly walking to the abandoned sofa and picking up the half-drunk coffee with four dollars. He separated the napkin from the bottom and started to screw it up but some black lines caught his attention, he quickly unravelled the napkin flattened it on the table.

He gasped and gaped and then got little mad.

**Probably the worst Americano, I've ever insulted my mouth with.  
D ******

****Stiles face screwed up in disbelief and disgust. He balled the napkin in his fist ready to punch some face, mostly he wanted to punch himself. He had hated this kind of Alpha's and now he had had shared some intimate moments with one of them. He was furious with himself. Nothing made Stiles lose his control other than a arrogant ass of Alphas. He growled lowly in his throat feeling his tiny claws prickle the skin of his balled fist.** **

****Then he felt a little confused because he didn't want to punch the Alpha, what was he furious at, that he failed to make a perfect coffee when he was doing so good or failed to impress the Alpha, but he wasn't trying to impress him... Or was he? And what the fuck did **D **mean?****** **

********After disposing the cup and the saucer and the offending napkin, then locking the bistro with Heather, Stiles finally concluded that **D **meant...****** ** ** **

************Dickhead.** ** ** ** ** **


	5. Chapter 5

Finstock led them through the staff entrance of the hotel, dishing out instructions, pointing to the serving area and ensuring that they were aware of the clientele.

Bottom line: Posh.

Stiles could deal with that. He had dealt with the rich and uptight Alphas and Betas along with their spoiled Omegas quite amazingly well in past.

"Never leave anyone with an empty glass." Finstock threw at them over his shoulder, leading on. "make sure all empties are delivered back to the kitchen."

"Never leave anyone with an empty glass." Finstock threw at them over his shoulder, leading on. "make sure all empties are delivered back to the kitchen."

Stiles and Heather along with few others followed Finstock listening intently and grazing their wondering eyes across the extravagant hall. 

"Here." Finstock stopped and thrust round silver tray at both of them, looking down at Stiles' feet. "You didn't have black formals."

"They are black" Stiles said wiggling his tired toes inside of his Converse. He could feel light ache in his ankles and wondered how long he could take the torture before he ripped his shoes off and sunk his feet in some lukewarm water. 

Finstock didn't say anything only rolled his eyes and beckoned them to follow. Soon they walked into the kitchen. It was a chaotic mess with dozens of staff flying around, shouting and barking orders at each other.

Stiles was suddenly alarmed by all that, he hadn't thought about the number of guest he would server and looking around the hustling and bustling he could say it wont be an easy night.

"I'm gonna be dead soon." He said moving closer to Heather as they followed Finstock. "I shouldn't have agreed."

Heather chuckled shoving his shoulder with hers. "At least I won't be dead alone. You carry my body and I yours."

Stiles rolled his eyes. "It's no fun, Heather. My feet are killing me."

"Don't worry there are others we aren't alone." She said pointing at other staffs.

Finstock showed them around the room where the function was being held and introduced to other waiters and waitress. They all looked bored and inconvenienced. 

"Here" Heather gave Stiles' a tray full of glasses. "Be careful don't drop and mess up."

"Whatever mom." Stiles said rolling his eyes. He swiveled his wrist taking the tray up to his shoulder with ease and smiled brightly at his friend. "I'm a natural." 

"That you're." Heather giggled taking her own tray in the same manner. Stiles swiveled on his Converse and headed out to where the sounds of chatting and laughing were coming from.

On entering his amber eyes like always widened taking in the wealth, the gowns and the dinner jackets. An excitement coursed through him taking in the scents of all the Alphas. His wolf perked up ready to obey and serve, draining out his tiredness but somehow he restrained his body to infuse his omega scent in the air.

Without an further prompting from Heather he lost himself in the growing crowd, presenting his tray to groups of people and smiling; whether they thanked him or not, it didn't matter. Most didn't but it didn't dampen his stupid excitement. The tray gliding up and down with ease and his body shifted effortlessly through the mass of wealth and he danced back and forth from the kitchen time to time to restock and redeliver.

"Doing good?" Finstock asked as Stiles was about to leave with another tray load of Champagne flute.

"As always." He sung, keen to get back to the thirsty crowd. He caught Heather across the room and smiled at her and as always she returned it with her signature beam.

"Champagne?" He asked, presenting his tray to a group of mid-aged Alphas, all knitted out in dinner jackets and bow ties.

"Ah! Marvellous." A stout man gushed taking a glass and handing to one of his companions. He did that further four times before taking one for himself.

"Your doing a fine job young Omega. " his free hand moved to Stiles as he slipped a fifty bill in his pocket with a wink. "Treat yourself."

"Oh no!" Stiles shook his head. "I get paid from my boss you really mustn't." He tired to retrieve the money, keeping the tray steady on his palm. 

"No, I won't hear a no." The man insisted pulling Stiles' out from his pocket. "It's not a tip. It's for the pleasure of seeing such beautiful eyes."

Stiles immediately blushed red, stumbled to say something and his wolf preened in delight. "Sir, seriously I can't."

"Oh! Nonsense" The Alpha dismissed Stiles with a wave of his chubby hand before he rejoined his companions leaving Stiles flustered and confused.

Stiles scanned the crowd but couldn't find Heather and Finstock was no where in sight. He tired to sniff Heather scent in the air but his mind boggled with so many scents that he felt more confused. He shook his head dispeling the scents and made his way through the crowd. 

He avoided the Alphas who just threw away money like that, circled in the other direction, halting at the back of a red satin gown. "Champagne, ma'am?" He asked flickering his gaze at Heather, she nodded on a small smile before moving in the opposite direction.

Stiles looked back at the satin-adorned woman, her dark hair curled falling on her shoulders. He smiled when the woman turned revealing her companion.  
The man  
The Alpha  
Him  
D

Stiles inhaled sharply, his hands shook, making the glass clink but he somehow managed the tray not to topple and the glasses to smash on the floor. But his smile fell, he couldn't school his facial reactions.

The man had his lips parted again, eyes stabbing at Stiles' flesh but there were no emotion on the Alpha's face. His dark stubble was absent leaving nothing but perfectly tanned skin and his dark hair were trimmed and perfectly set for the evening.

"Thank you." The woman said taking a glass and pulling Stiles' attention from the Alpha. "Would you have?" She turned to face the Alpha.

The man didn't say anything, just took the glass from the woman's perfectly manicured hands, all the while keeping his eyes on Stiles. His heart sank as tears prickles his eyes. The Alpha was definitely taken, he could smell the Beta woman all over him and he had slept with an already taken or courting Alpha.

The woman helped herself with another glass and Stiles knew it was his cue to move but his legs wouldn't comply planting him at the spot like some statue. He thought he should smile or anything to break the frozen state or the staring deadlock. Stiles was good at copping with sudden shock or surprise by masking his emotions but what came naturally to him was completely failing him. Nothing was working except his eyes and they were not moving from the Alpha's.

"That will be all." The woman prompted harshly, making Stiles jump. Her delicates feature screwed up in annoyance and her dark eyes had darkened further. She had a beautiful face although it was scowling at Stiles. "I said that is all." She stepped between Stiles and D and flashed her blue beta eyes at Stiles.

Stiles felt his body instinctively comply like some slave to the Beta's command. He ducked his head, nodded, said nothing, didn't flash his eyes back in retaliation, swung his tray back onto his shoulder before slowly turning around and walking away. An urge to look back itched him, he wanted to see how it went down between the Alpha and his mate or girlfriend or whatever, because he knew the man was staring at him. So, he looked back and as suspected he found steely green eyes burning holes at his back.

"Hey"

Stiles jumped out of his skin, the tray tumbling from his hands, the glass clinked floating down to the marble, champagne sprinkling slowly out of the flutes, the tray spinning in the mid-air until it all came together crushed on the floor silencing the room. Stiles froze at the spot as the broken glasses danced around his feet and took forever to settle. The piercing noise of shattering of glasses echoed through the quite space of the room.

Stiles had his eyes casted downward, body tensed and he knew all attention was pointed at him.

Just him.

Everyone was looking at him.

And he didn't know what to do.

"Stiles." Heather's panicked voice snapped him out of the despairing trance, he jerked his head up and saw her rushing towards him eyes widened with shock and concerned. "Are you okay?"

Stiles nodded numbly and knelt to start collecting the broken glass pieces. He could have asked for a sweeper but at that moment he felt it was the right thing to do. As if cleaning with his head down casted would mean he was hiding from all the eyes pointed at him. 

He winced as red-hot pain shoot through his knee and the material of his trouser sliced through. Immediately tears pinched the back of his eyes and they glowed his omega purple. He started to babble sorry incoherent under his breath, his whole body fighting the urge to run away from the embarrassment. He hated getting attention, he did a good job to avoid and repel it but he couldn't right now. He had brought a room full of hundreds of people to an eerie silence. 

"Don't touch it, Stiles." Heather pulled him up, giving an all-over assessment and pulled him away from the room to the kitchen removing him from the audience.

As they entered the kitchen, Heather cupped Stiles' nape and started to massage soothingly giving extra pressure at the base. After a brief moment of struggle with his wolf, Stiles' shoulders sagged, closed his eyes and dropped his head on his friends shoulder, panting mildly. 

"Jump up." She patted on the counter. Stiles looked back, braced his hands on the edge of the counter and lifted himself up still fighting the tears. Heather took the hem of the trouser and pulled it upto the gaping wound.

"Oh! Shit." She flinched stepping back and glanced up at Stiles. "I'm sorry, blood makes me uncomfortable. Was that the man from bistro?"

"Yes," Stiles whispered shrinking into himself when he saw Bobby approaching.

"Stiles, are you okay?" He crouched doing his own little assessment and grimaced seeing Stiles' leaking kneecap. Hearing him call Stiles instead of Bilinski caused Stiles to panic a little.

"I'm sorry, A-Alpha." Stiles whispered. "I don't know what happened." He tilted his head baring his throat and kept his eyes down casted showing his submission. His eyes were still bleeding purple.

"Hey, hey its alright."Bobby straightened his body, his round face softened completely as he wrapped his own palm around Stiles' nape giving light squeezes, "accidents happen, honey."

"I caused such a drama." Stiles whined but his body deflated all tension draining out under the Alphas reassurance touch.

"That's enough." Bobby said sternly dropping his hand and turned to the wall unhooking the first-aid box. "It isn't the end of the world." He opened the box and fished around until he laid his hand on the antiseptic wipe. "I hate those Alphas who can't even help an stressed out Omega. They were so many and nobody bothered to help him. Instead taking delight in the scene." He growled under his breath and tore open the packet.

Stiles gritted his teeth as Bobby wiped the antiseptic gently around the wound, the stinging making his hiss and stiffened. "Relax, its needs to be cleaned. You don't heal as fast as us remember? But I think by tomorrow morning your knee is gonna be back to its flawless self." Stiles could kiss Bobby for being such a sweetheart, he was an amazing man and an too amazing Alpha; an Alpha Stiles could die for but their relationship was so platonic that even if their biology intervened Stiles or Bobby could never look at each other in that way. 

Stiles held his breath as Bobby continued to clean his knee then finishing by tapping a square band-aid and helped him down of the counter. "Can you walk okay?"

Stiles bent and stretched his leg, he could feel the healing of his skin but it was too slow. "I'm good." He smiled his thanks, before collecting a new tray.

"What do you think you're doing?" Bobby asked, frowning.

"I..."

"Oh no." He laughed, "Go to the loo and sort yourself out." 

Stiles thought for a moment, he could do his shift, but he was not looking forward to face any spectators and D. He would keep his head down avoiding a certain steel stare and see though his shift with no further mishap but he needed a little time, just to gain some control and then he could resume with the serving. He nodded giving a small smile and made his way out of the kitchen.

Stepping into the room, he scurried trying hard to pass through unnoticed but he knew he failed--the feeling of the sharp green eyes prickled his skin everywhere. He felt fragile, he felt incompetent, foolish but most of all he felt exposed.

Stiles quickly navigated the corridor, pushed his way through a door and landed in a ridiculously extravagant washroom. At first he didn't use the facility, but took out the fifty dollar from his pocket, gazed at it then screwed it up and threw it in a dustbin. He hated all the Alphas and most of all he hated their money. 

Stiles washed his hands, splashed some water on his face and looked up in the gigantic gold framed mirror. His eyes were back to their normal amber, with a little dark patch under them, he looked tired... Too tired. He bent forward and splashed some more water, he wasn't paying attention when the door opened and someone stood behind him casting a shadow. 

Stiles glanced up, gasped and jumped back straight into the hard and lean body. D. 

"You're in the Omegas." Stiles breathed swinging around to face him. He stepped back trying to put some distance but he didn't get very far with the sink behind. To his own shock he let himself get drunk in the closeness--three piece suit, clean shaved, making the man look a lot younger, all heady Alpha scent with a hint of earthy wood. It was intoxicating. Everything about his scent were sending Stiles' senses into a tailspin.

The man stepped forward, closing the already narrow space between them, then to Stiles' shock he knelt and lifted the leg of the trouser gently. Stiles pushed himself against the sink holding his breath and watching as the man dragged the tab of his thumb softly over the band-aid.

"Does it hurt?" He asked quietly, lifting those incredible green eyes to meet Stiles'. Stiles couldn't talk so he shook his head a little and watched as the man stood back up to his full height. He was thoughtful for a moment before he spoke. "I need to force myself to stay away from you."

Stiles wanted to point out that he was doing a terrible job but he couldn't take his eyes of those lush lips. "Why do you need to force yourself."

The man grabbed Stiles' forearm and it took every ounce of his strength not to flinch at the heat radiating from his body under the man's touch. "Because you seem like a sweet omega who should get more from an Alpha than the best fuck of your life."

Stiles wasn't shocked by the man's brazenness. He'd experienced it, the ways, the capabilities the Alpha had to make Stiles cum and scream till his sex was numb and throat was sore. But Stiles was relieved even if the Alpha had only promised to fuck him. It confirmed that it wasn't only the heat talk but he was as taken by him as Stiles was. 

"Maybe I want that." Stiles was goading him, encouraging him, when he knew he should be running tucking his tail between his legs. "It won't be the first time you would touch me."

The man seemed to drift into thoughts as his eyes focused on his fingertips trails up Stiles' forearm. "Your scent makes me crazy." He eyes crawled up to Stiles'. "I know mine does the same to you. You want more than me between your legs fucking you to unconsciousness."

Stiles didn't know whether the man was making a statement or questing him. After getting rejected in the mating ceremony he hadn't considered anything for future. He was drifting, he was living, he had a family a place to live and call home. That's all he had that's all he ever needed. But right now he did know one thing and that he was on a dangerous ground. Not just because the unidentified man was too forward, dark and way too stunning but the man had just said that he would do nothing except for fucking. Although diving into bed with the man won't be an inconceivably stupid because ding ding Stiles had been there and done that. 

If Stiles looked deep, he was still a virgin, the Alpha hadn't fucked him in his heat just used his hands, mouth and whatnot to make him cum. But that was his heat, his desperate body begging to be knotted and bred but now meaningless sex went against all his morals, though he wasn't a traditionalist and nowadays it's hard to find a virgin Omega before mating. People have sex. It would be just sex.

For the first time in his life he felt alive with the Alpha, his touch made him feel alive, buzzing with unfamiliar feeling attacking his senses and more demanding buzz attacking him between his clenched thighs. He was pulsing.

"What's your name?" Stiles asked.

"I won't tell you that, Stiles." The Alpha teased. 

Stiles wanted to touch him, but as he lifted his hand to rest it on the man's chest, the man backed up slightly, eyes nailing to Stiles' floating hand. He paused and as he was about to withdraw his hands the man grabbed his wrist and pulled it to rest on his chest. 

Stiles slowly moved his hand up the man torso coaxing a sharp intake of breath. Then the man's eyes flicker up to Stiles', and his head fell forward, his breath heating Stiles' face. Stiles' heart jumped up as he finally closed his eyes waiting for the Alpha's lush lips. He was getting closer, his scent intensifying, Stiles face was scorching from his hot minty breath....

But the happy chattering of some women and men broke the moment. Suddenly Stiles yelped hands flailing as he was hauled down the row of cubicles and shoved in the last one. The slammed, he was whirled around and pinned on the door with the Alpha's palm on his mouth and his face too close that their nose almost touched.

Stiles felt his whole body heaving as they stare at each other, listening to the omegas preening, reapplying their lipstick and refreshing their perfume. His eyes glowed his omega purple so did the Alpha's as they flashed red holding each other gaze, it was so intense that he melt. He mentally yelled at the Omegas to hurry the fuck up so they could pick up from where they felt off. Stiles could nearly feel the Alpha's lips brush over his and that only increased his desire for the Alpha tenfold. He had waiting for two months to feel this closeness, yearned for the Alpha's hot touch and now he was getting it.

It felt like an age before the chattering eventually faded. Stiles' heavy breathing didn't, though, not even the Alpha allowed air into his mouth by removing his hand.

The man leaned forward resting his forehead on Stiles' and had his eyes clenched shut. "You're too innocent. I can't do this." Stiles was removed from the door as the man walked out hastily, leaving Stiles berefted.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm flattered that you guys have taken the time to read and commented despite all my typos and stupid mistake. It means a lot.
> 
> I hope you guy would enjoy this chapter too!
> 
> Not Beta'd 
> 
> All mistakes are mine.

 

_I'm to innocent?_

Stiles let out a sardonic snap of laughter. He was angry, pissed off and ready to track the Alpha to tell him that who gets to decide what he wanted was not him. Letting himself out of the cubicle and ranning a quick check over his face and body, Stiles concluded that he looked harassed, before existing the bathroom and making his way to the kitchen.

 

Stiles spotted Heather at the kitchen door. "We were about to send a search party." She hurried towards him and her amused concern face turned into concerned concern. "You okay?"

 

"I'm good." Stiles brushed her off, thinking that he must looked as shook up as he felt.  He didn't hung around for Heather to press further and grabbed a champagne bottle ignoring her inquisitive stare. It was empty. "Are there anymore bottles." He asked dumping  the bottle down little too harshly. Stiles was shaking.

 

"Yeah." Heather replied slowly a frown settling on her curious face as she passed a freshly opened bottle to him .  "Are you okay?"

 

"Yeah." Stiles sighed paused from pouring flicked his eyes up to Heather's and gave a light shrug as nonchalant as possible.

 

She gauged Stiles closely and shrugged but Stiles knew she was not convinced and making mental note of how to make his life more miserable for later. She helped him fill the rest flutes and handed him the tray as he disposed the empty bottle.

 

 "Thanks." Stiles gave her a tight smile of acknowledgement taking the loaded tray before swinging it onto his shoulder, turning on his Converse and making his way out of the kitchen and away from his Omega friends too curious eyes.

 

He braved the crowds of people but this time neither he was as attentive as before or was he smiling that much while offering out champagne flutes. His mind was curious and his eyes cruising as he weaved his way through the crowd paying much less attention as possible to his surrounding. He knew he was risking it, risking to make a fool of himself again but he couldn't care less. He had to see the Alpha if possible throttle him and then kiss him senseless.

 

 

Stiles was being unreasonable, he knew all the Alphas were same, a trans Omega was like a toy they liked to play around because of their desperate need for an Alpha to rise up in status. Unlike other Omegas, trans Omegas were considered lowest in the hierarchy and that made them even more desperate.

 

But whatever it was Stiles didn't care, he was overwhelming to see the mysterious and dark Alpha... Then suddenly he felt something as he turned around. An invisible force pulling him around to the source.

 

 _Oh my God._  There he was.

 

Stiles froze at place tray hovering between my shoulder and his wrist. The man was studying him, a tumbler of dark liquid hovering at the mouth which pulled Stiles' eyes to those lips _. Those lips I've kissed that night_ , he thought.

 

Stiles focus became heightened when the Alpha slowly raised the glass and tipped the content down his throat before wiping his mouth with back hand and placing the empty on Heather’s tray as she passed. Stiles managed to restrain a groan of irritation when his Omega friend stopped immediately, did a double-take, and then swung around looking at Stiles. Her wide eyes landed on him briefly before she started flicking her eyes full of intrigue, mixed with little worry back and forth between Stiles and the confounding Alpha.

 

The man was staring—really staring at Stiles—which only made his heart stutter and beat faster all at the same time and Stiles was hopeless as well as helpless. He called the divine power for mercy but nothing was helping him as he stood still staring at the Alpha.  And to his bad luck, the Alpha’s companion got curious due to the Alpha’s lack of interest in her because she turned to follow the Alpha’s line of gaze until she was looking at Stiles.

 

The Beta woman smiled slyly, lifting her empty champagne flute and wiggled it in mid-air, a prompt to get Stiles’ ass in gear. A mild panic set in him. But as Stiles was well known for his unwanted curiosity and his lack of bad manners, he couldn’t prevent himself and made his way towards them—her still smiling, him still staring—until he stood right before them, offering the tray to them. Stiles wanted to snort at her attempt to make him feel inferior and he was too intrigued to care also because been there done that baby. He had faced too many uptight arrogant Alphas, who had tried to trample him and squish him to sand, but hey there he was standing out and proud, so what he was a Tran-male, he was an Omega and an Alpha’s ultimate need.

 

“Take your time sweetheart,” The Beta woman purred, taking a glass and extending it to D. “Derek?”

 

“Thank you,” Derek said quietly, accepting the drink.

 

_Derek? His name’s Derek?_

Stiles cocked his head at him, and for the first time Derek lips tipped knowingly. _I’m sure that if he really let go, he’d probably knock me out with his smile._

 

“Run along now,” the Beta said, turning her back to Stile and pulling a reluctant Derek with her but her rudeness didn’t dampen down Stiles’ inner delight. He turned on his Converse, happy to leave with the knowledge of the man’s name. He didn’t turn back either, he was done following Alpha ‘Derek’ for the day. Now it would be the Alpha chasing him down or Stiles would let him go.

 

Heather pounced on Stiles when he entered the kitchen, just as he knew she would. “Holy, fucking shit!” Stiles winced at her burst of blues and set his tray down. “He’s staring at you, Stiles. I mean proper burning eyes.”

 

“I know.”   _You’d have to be blind or utterly stupid not to notice_

 

“He’s with a Beta.” Stiles might be pleased to have learned the Alpha’s name, but he wasn’t so pleased about that part. Not that he had any right to feel jealous.

 

“Ooh, I’m smelling something,” She chanted wringing Stiles’ nose with her thumb and forefinger, softly and playfully and laughed as she sashayed out of the kitchen.

 

“Yes. Me too,” Stiles mused to himself, turning to look back at the entrance. He knew that as he would walk out of the door, his very step would be watched by some steel eyes but he would avoid. So he did for the rest of the evening definitely feeling Alpha ‘Derek’s’ eyes on him as he weaved through the crowds. He felt a strange constant pull in the Alpha’s direction and struggled to keep his eyes from drifting over. While he felt a pleasure to lose himself in those hypnotic steel eyes but he feared ruining it by seeing the Alpha with a Beta.

 

After the shift was over Stiles said his good-byes to Finstock, Heather and Aiden (Heather’s Alpha who had come to pick her up.), and pushed his way out of the staff entrance into the midnight air and headed for his jeep. He was looking forward to curling up with Scott in his bed and having a morning lie-in and then maybe in the afternoon he might go out with Melissa and buy himself a black formal shoe and stock up his supplies for his next heat.

 

“She’s just a business associate.” Stiles jumped out of his skin with and halted, words stroking on his skin, but he didn’t turn around. “I know you’re wondering.”

 

“You don’t need to explain yourself to me.” Stile continued walking, knowing exactly what he was doing. He was goading the Alpha to chase him. Although he wasn’t familiar with this game, but he knew that he wasn’t going to appear the desperate one out here, even if, annoyingly, he was. Stiles was sensible, e was no more heat drunk to lose his myself to the Alpha. He knew a bad thing when he saw it and the man standing behind him was the one who had the power to crush his logic.

 

Stiles squawked as his arm was seized, halting his escape and he was swung around to face the Alpha. “No, I don’t have to explain myself, yet here I’m doing exactly that.”

 

“Why?” Stiles knew he should pull his arm away, but he couldn’t. The heat from the Alpha’ touch was working its way through his hoodie and warming his chilly skin and setting his blood alight. The feeling was so close to having his heat yet  it wasn’t. It was a new and foreign feeling; a feeling Stiles had ever felt in his life.

 

“You really don’t want to get involved with me.” It sounded as though Derek was trying to convince himself rather Stiles.  Stiles could have made a snarky comment and brushed the Alpha off , but he was too busy admiring the Alpha’s ethereal face.

 

“Your boundless ineptitude to stay away is astounding," he snarkily declared eventually,  his voice quiet and low, he met the Alpha’s intense stare with his own. “Mine isn’t.”

 

A long silence fell between them which indicated Stiles that the chase had just begun. The Alpha didn’t want to let go of him, which made butterflies flutter in his stomach. God. The Alpha was definitely was taken by him but did Stiles wanted the chase to be an easy one for the Alpha, nope, he did not. So he decides for the Alpha and removed his arms from his grasp. “Goodnight, Alpha Derek.” Stiles took few steps backwards (he didn’t want to disrespect the Alpha by showing his back right away.) before turning and waking away. It was probably one of the most sensible decisions he’d ever made, even if the majority of his scrambled mind was willing him to turn back.

 

 

* * *

 

 

The lingering strangeness of the evening before was soon hijacked by Melissa on the Saturday morning after Scott left for work, when she said Stiles’ three favourite words: ‘Let’s go sightseeing.’

 

 

They roamed, they sat, they drank good coffee, they roamed some more, they had lunch, they drank some more good coffee and they roamed again, until finally they fell through the front door late in the evening with fish and chips dinner from the local shop.

 

* * *

 

 

On Sunday, Melissa kicked Stiles out of the house and sent him to the local Omega school for his Sunday classes, where he stitched together the patchwork quilt for a soldier based on Afghanistan. Stiles had no idea who the soldier was but the local unmated Omegas would volunteer so did he. Then they were taught other household staff too which of course bored Stiles because he had been doing this class for years now and maybe he was the eldest unmated Omega in there.

 

“Batman no more your favourite?” Melissa asked as Stiles walked into the kitchen ready for work on Monday morning.

 

He looked down at his new Spider-man t-shirt and smiled. “Nope, just wanted something new.”

 

“Wonderful.” She laughed, placing a bowl of cornflakes on the table. “How is your knee?”

 

Sitting down, he tapped his leg and picked up his soon. “Perfect. What are you doing today?”

 

“I’m assisting  Dr. Deaton in a surgery.” She placed a pot of coffee on the table and loaded Stiles with sugar.

 

“You can call him Alan, at least at home.” Stiles teased.

 

Melissa hand hung mid-air holding the pot as she looked at him and narrowed her eyes. “Are you trying to say something?” She turned her attention back to the pot and poured the coffee before pushing the mug across the table to Stiles.

 

Stiles shrugged as nonchalantly as possible, not missing the pink colour on Melissa's cheek, “It’s not we are blind but if you want us to act like that we can. We are a supportive family and you have our blessings totally” He said and shoved a spoonful of cornflakes in his mouth to stop himself saying more. Sometimes he really needed some brain to mouth filter.

 

Melissa’s brown eyes flicked to Stiles’ briefly before she slurped her coffee. “I was thinking of going to the market after work and Dr. Deaton said he’d take me. We’ll speak no more of it.”

 

Stiles was desperately holding back his grin. Dr. Deaton or my surgeon and Melissa had been running around the bush for years now. Melissa plays all hard-hearted and uninterested but the fondness they have for each other was quietly returned. Mr. McCall had left Melissa for years now but neither Stiles nor Scott would ever understand Melissa’s hesitation—maybe it was fear for another heartbreak or she didn’t wanted to because of Scott and Stiles—the thing was it was little complicated, but a little companionship was good for her.

 

Losing Stiles mother soon after her husband left her had sent Melissa into dark depression. Claudia and Melissa were best friends, they were like sister—they were like Stiles and Scott. There was no one to care of her, while she took care of the Sheriff and Stiles and Scott, Melissa suffered in silence for years, silently coming in terms with her own loss and hiding her own grief for others. Then there was Scott and Stiles—teenagers left to hold it together—one lost his dad and the other his mom...which Stiles didn’t do a very good job of in the early days.

 

Stiles’ attention snapped in with thudding steps coming down the stairs. “Maa, I’m leaving.” Scott rushed into kitchen, yanking the refrigerator door open and took out an apple.

 

“Aren’t you having breakfast?” Melissa asked urgently as she placed her mug on the table and was almost ready leap out of the chair to make something for her son.

 

Scott took a bite and turned around letting the door close on its own. “Nope, I’m late.” He dipped and kissed Melissa’s forehead ignoring her sigh. “I’ll pick up something on my way.” He turned towards Stiles, cupped his nape giving a light squeeze. “See you later bro, if possible in the afternoon. I’ll call you.” And with that he breezed out of the kitchen.

 

 

* * *

 

 

Stiles jumped out of his jeep, and hurried through the chaos of rush-hour pedestrian traffic. His mood reflected the weather—bright and sunny—he felt much better. After navigating through the back street, he pushed his way into the bistro, finding it jam-packed already. He pulled on his apron and swung into action, immediately clearing four tables of empty cups before the vacated seats were taken by new customers.  He smiled, delivered quickly and clear the tables even faster. He realized he was natural at this service-with-a-smile-business.

 

 

Around five o’clock, Stiles wasn’t feeling so bright anymore. His feet were aching, his calves were aching and his head was aching. But he was still smiling when Heather slapped his backside as she passed him. “I don’t know what I’d do without you here.”

 

“Just get me curly fries everyday and I’ll your second soul.”Stiles smile widened as he watched her push through the swing door into the kitchen, but it soon fell away when he turned around and came face to face with _him_ again.

 

Stiles was not particularly big on fate or things happening for a reason. He believed that you’re the master of your own destiny—your own decisions and actions are what influence your life course. But unfortunately, the decisions and actions of others impact the course, too, and sometimes you’re powerless to prevent it. Maybe that was why he’d closed himself off from the world—shut himself down away and rejected any person, potential situation, or possibility that might take control away from him. He was perfectly happy admitting it to himself. Someone else’s poor, selfish choices had affected his life too much.

 

What he was not happy about was that his sudden inability to continue with his sensible strategy,  probably when it was most important thing to do. And the reason for this lapse in strength was standing in front of him.

 

The familiar feeling of his heartbeat increasing should tell him all he needed to know, and it did. He was attracted to this man—really attracted—no heat, no weird scent, nothing in-between. But what was he doing at the bistro. He hated Stiles’ coffee, and while Stiles made endless perfect cups of the stuff all day, it might change now.

 

The man was just staring at Stiles again. He should be annoyed, but he was in positing to ask the man what the fuck he was staring at because Stiles was staring at him, too, Stiles’ life was getting fucked sideways and he knew it. Pathetic enough he wanted it to—like literally.

 

Stiles should speak, standing there in the middle of the bistro and dribbling for a man was sometime he had never done and by doing it he was embarrassing himself. But fuck, how he could look away from the man, although Stiles had concluded the man always had his stupid impassive look on his face. Did he ever smile? Or was it always a little twitch of his lips or quirk of his eyebrows. Stiles would never put those points as flaws because those things made the Alpha more intriguing, more mysterious and more perfect.

 

Suddenly, the kitchen door swung open into Stiles’ back and knocked him out of his trance. “Oh!” Heather exclaimed, studying him by clenching his arm. She scanned his startled face, worried when he made no effect to move . Then her gaze shifted from him and her mouth gaped a little. “Oh!” she whispered releasing her grip. Her eyes flicking between Stiles and the Alpha “Um...I’ll just.... empty the bins.” Stiles wanted to yell at her for deserting him in such a situation, but his tongue was tied and he was staring again. Fuck his life and fuck him.

 

The man leaned forward, bracing his hand on the counter. “You’re watching me very closely.” He murmured.

 

“You’re watching me too,” Stiles pointed out, at last finding his tongue. “You’re not doing very well at keeping away.”

 

The Alpha didn’t entertain his observation. “How old are you?” his gaze dragged slowly down Stiles’ body before returning to his eyes. Stiles didn’t answer, but he did frown as the Alpha’s eyebrow ached...expectantly, Stiles guessed—the man talked more with his eyebrows than his mouth. “I asked you a question.”

 

“Twenty.” Stiles answered quickly, when he really wanted to tell the Alpha to mind his own damn business.

 

“Are you involved with anyone?”

 

“No.” Stiles frowned more, little for the absurd questions and little for his own willingness to answer it. This were quite familiar questions an Alpha asks an Omega before they want to court them but Stiles didn’t let his imagination go haywire because the Alpha had already promised to fuck him and nothing else.

 

The Alpha nodded thoughtfully. “Are you going to ask me what I’d like?” By that Stiles hopped the Alpha meant what he’d like to drink. Or was he? Did he want to pick up where they left off?

Stile scratched the side of cheek an obvious sigh of nervousness. He looked down at the pad and took the pen then tapped the end of the pen on the pad briefly before he flicked his eyes up.  “What would you like?” His confidence was wavering. He was a wreck.

 

The Alpha’s sludgy green pools darkened slightly. “Americano, four shots, two sugars and topped halfway.”

 

Stiles was instantly stabbed by disappointment, which was ridiculous. What was also ridiculous was that the Alpha had returned even after claiming that Stiles’ coffee was the worst he’d ever tasted. “I thought you didn’t like my coffee.”

 

“I didn’t” He pushed away from the counter. “But I’d like to give you the chance to redeem yourself, Stiles.”

 

Stiles cheeks flushed with embarrassment.

 

“Would you like to try redeem yourself?” The Alpha was completly poker-faced, totally serious.

 

Stiles wanted to search deep to find that secret bad bone he had and smack the Alpha on the face and to tell him were it was best to shove it but he didn’t do well. “Okay.” He said instead, turning towards the wretched coffee machine and started his work slowly and accurately. He could’ve done his work of making a simple coffee at ease if he wasn’t under scrutiny by some steel eyes.

 

In his peripheral, Stiles saw Heather’s curious head pop through the swing door, and he knew his friend was desperate to know what was going on. Stiles could feel her ginning, even if he couldn’t see it. He wanted Heather to come in and break the awkward silence and give him some comfort but he also didn’t want her to come in. He wanted to be alone with the Alpha.

 

When Stiles was done, he topped up the takeaway cup and secured a lid before turning to deliver it to him. The Alpha was sitting down again and Stiles immediately realised his error. The coffee wasn’t even tasted and he’d already screwed up.

 

The Alpha focused his green pools on the cardboard cup, but Stile spoke before he did. “Would you like a proper cup?”

 

“I’ll take the takeaway.”His eyes lifted to Stiles’ “It might taste better.” He wasn’t smiling, but Stiles could sense the hidden humour and got the feeling that the Alpha wanted to.

 

Stiles nodded and held out the cup. “I hope you enjoy.”

 

“So do I.” He said, taking the cup and nodding at the sofa opposite. “Join me.” He removed the lid and slowly blew the steam from the cup. Stiles could jump the narrow space them and kiss those lips. Everything he did was slow and deliberate and beyond beautiful. The man was beyond beautiful, if a little stand-offish.

 

When Stiles didn’t move, he cocked his eyebrow a little, which Stiles guess he was indicating him to sit down. Stiles legs move forward of thir own volition to take a seat. “How is the coffee?” He asked

 

The Alpha took a slow sip of his Americano and Stiles found himself tensing, bracing for him to spit it out. He didn’t. He dipped his chin in approval, taking another sip, and Stiles relaxed, stupidly relieved that the Alpha didn’t seem disgusted. He concluded it to be his Omega trying to please an Alpha.

 

“You may have noticed that I’m quite fascinated by you as well.”

 

“As well?” Stiles asked, confused.

 

“It’s rather obvious you’re fascinated by me.”

 

What an arrogant prick. “I suppose lots of Omegas must be fascinated by you.” He retorted. “Do you invite them all for coffee?”

 

“No, just you.” He leaned close and the look in his eyes practically took Stiles’ breath away.

 

Stiles broke the eyes contact and found himself looking away, but then he remembered something and was forced to confront the intensity. “Who was that woman at the party?”He asked not the least bit embarrassed to enquire. He came right out and asked Stiles what his relationship status was; Stiles had every right to know his. The Beta looked far too familiar to be a business associate and she had her scent all over him.

 

Stiles wasn’t holding his breath, but he still hoped that the Alpha was single at least right now he smelled like himself. The idea that this man was available seemed ridiculous, and so was the fact that Stiles wanted him to be—He wanted him to be available...for him.

 

“Business,” The Alpha replied, watching Stiles carefully.

“You’re single?” Stiles asked, wanting complete clarification, but for what purpose he didn’t know.

 

“I am.”

 

“Okay,” was all Stiles said, still watching him, feeling quietly delighted.

 

“Okay,”The Alpha countered, slowly sipping more coffee as Stiles looked on. The man was like a giant mass of intensity, enticing him into....something. “I enjoyed my coffee.” He said, placing his cup down and swivelling it, before slowly rising from the couch.

 

“You’re leaving?” Stiles blurted, shocked. What was all this about? What was his point?

 

The Alpha shifted uncomfortably and put his hand out to Stiles. “It was a pleasure to meet you.”

 

“We already met.” Stiles pointed out. “You’ve spent my heat with me, then left again two days ago you were about to kiss me and walked away.”

 

The Alpha’s hand dropped a little at Stiles sharp words before he gathered himself and raised it again. “And then you walked away from me.”

 

So it was a game? He was unhappy because Stiles was the one who left and walked away, so now he was returning the favour having the final say? His hand came close and Stiles recoiled, too scared to touch him.

 

“Do you think there will be sparks?” He asked quietly.

 

Stiles eyes widened. He knew there will be sparks because he’d felt them already. His mooching injected some bravery into Stiles as he gasped the Alpha’s suit knitted wrist and pulled his palm around his nape. And there they were again. Sparks. Not electricity firing off all over the bistro, causing both of them to gasp or jump back in shock, but there was something there, and instead of firing outward, it was shooting inward, ricocheting all over Stiles’ body making his heart beat faster and his lips part. Stiles didn’t want to let go, but the Alpha flexed his palm prompting him to release him.

 

Then he turned and strided out, without another word or look to suggest that he had felt something too. Did he?? What was that? Who is he?

 

There was a pull, though—a very powerful one.

 

 


	7. Chapter 7

Stiles had been away with the fairies all week. Every time the bistro door swung open, he looked for him. But he’d never there. A dozen men over the last four days have asked Stile his name, his number, or they’ve told him what stunning eyes he had. And each one he’d wished could be Alpha Derek.

 

Stiles had been busy churning out perfect coffee after perfect coffee, and he even waited at another posh function for Finstock on Tuesday, hoping the Alpha would be there. He wasn’t though.

 

He’d always tried to keep his life simple, but now he was craving a complication – a tall, dark-haired, mysterious complication.

It’s Saturday, and Scott had humoured him, tagging along for a walk through the Beacon hills children Park. Stiles knew his brother had figured that there was something on his mind.

 

For a long time they both walked in silence not knowing what to talk about, Stiles could feel Scott’s sideways glances on him. He kicks a pile of leaves as they traipse down the middle of the Park, towards Downtown. Stiles knew what Scott wanted to ask and wouldn’t hold out for much longer. He’s made all of the conversation, while Stiles had returned one-word answers. Stiles was not going to get away with it for much longer. He was clearly absent in mind, and he could probably muster up the energy to feign his normal self, but he did not want to. He wanted Scott to press more so he could talk about Alpha Derek.

 

“I’ve met someone.” The words fell from Stiles’ mouth, breaking the comfortable silence between them. Scott looked shocked, which was okay because Stiles was quite shocked, too.

 

“Who?” Scott asked, pulling Stiles to a stop.

“I don’t know.” Stiles shrugged, lowering his bum to the grass and picking at some of the blades.

“He turned up at the bistro a few times and also at a gala ball where I waited.”

 

Scott joined him, his face morphing into a big grin. “Stiles Stilinski McCall has been affected by an Alpha?” He paused briefly, contemplating. “Or a Beta.”

 

“Yes, Stiles Stilinski McCall has most definitely been affected by an Alpha.”  Stiles corrected as heat rose up his eyes making him eyes avert away from his friend, but it was such a relief for him to share the burden. “I can’t stop thinking about him,” He admitted.

 

“Ah!” Scott threw his arms in the air. “Is he hot?”

 

“Stupidly.” Stiles smiled on a low sigh. “He has the most amazing eyes. As green as grass with brown and yellow speckles .”

 

“I want to know everything,” Scott declared.

 

“There’s nothing more to tell.”

 

“Well, what did he say? Did he give you any token or Omega band. Approached for courting. At least a date?” Scott all but rushed eyes big and inquisitive.

 

“He asked if I was involved with anyone.” Stiles tried to sound casual, but failed.

 

“But why would he could he smell you... I mean being a Beta I can tell you are single and smell mostly of Ma and me.” Scott looked confused as he jogged his brain then his eyes widen as he leaned forward. “What did you say?”

 

“No.”

 

“It’s happened!” he sang, beaming. “Thank the fucking Lord, it’s finally happened!”

“Scotty.” Stiles scolded him, blushing even harder, but I couldn’t help laughing too. Scott was right; it has happened, and it’s

happened hard.

 

“Oh, Stiles.” Scott sat up straight, looking all serious. “You don’t know how long I’ve been waiting for this. I need to see him.”

 

Stiles scoffed, plucking more grass out, a bit harshly then he intended. “Well, that’s unlikely. He appears quickly and

disappears faster.”

 

“How old?”  Scott ignored Stiles and the excitement on his face is like nothing Stiles’d ever seen before. Stiles’d made his day – probably his month, or even his year. Scott’d tried relentlessly to drag him out to bars and forced him for the Biannual ceremony and other social gatherings.

 

“I’m guessing late-twenties, but he seems older. You know, very mature. He always wears very expensive-looking suits.” Stiles avoided the fact that this was the Alpha he had met and been with during his last heat.

 

“Perfect.” Scott rubbed his hands together. “Name?”

“D,” He said quietly.

““D”?” Scott’s face screwed up into a disapproving frown. “Who is he? Some secret agent?”

 

A burst of laughter flew from Stiles, and he giggled to himself while his friend looked on, waiting for confirmation that his muse had a name beyond one letter of the alphabet. “He signed with an D.”

 

“Signed?” His confusion deepens, as did his scowl. Stiles was not sure if he should divulge this part.

 

“He didn’t like my coffee and chose to let me know by writing it on a napkin. He signed it D, but I’ve since found out that his name is Derek.”

“Oooohhh, sexy! But the cheek!” Scott was shocked, displaying a similar reaction to what I did, but then his face straightened and he narrowed his eyes on me. “And how did that make you feel?”

 

“Inadequate.” Stiles said the word without thought, and he didn’t stop there. “Stupid, angry, irritated.”

 

Scott was smiling now. “He drew a reaction?” he asked. “You got a little mad?”

 

“Yes!” Stiles breathed, completely exasperated. “I was really pissed off.”

 

“Oh my God! I already love him.” He stood and put his hand out to pull Stiles up. “I bet he’s completely taken by you, like most Alphas on God’s green earth.”

 

Stiles stifled the coming retort because no Alpha was attracted to him accept this Mr.D and accepted his offer, letting his friend pull him to his feet. “They’re not.” He sighed, reflecting on the brief words that they exchanged; on one line in particular: _I’m quite fascinated by you, as well._

 

Did fascinated equal attracted?

 

“Trust me, they are.”

 

Suddenly Stiles was eager to spit it all out and see what Scott made of it. “I’ve kissed him three months back.”

 

Scott inhaled sharply. “What do you mean?” His back straightened, and narrowed his eyes. “The Alpha you’d?” His voice trailed off questioningly.

 

“Yes. He is the one. The only Alpha, Scott.” Stiles was not even ashamed but when Scott’s eyes bulged out for obvious reason he rushed to explain further. “We didn’t knot though, but at the party he pushed me away calling me an innocent. I mean who does that. It wouldn’t have been our first kiss.”

 

“Were you mad?”

 

“Furious.” Stiles frowned on a mild nod of his head.

 

“Yes!” Scott hands slapped together, and Stiles was yanked into his embrace. “This is good. Tell me more.”

 

Stiles spilled the whole thing – the dropped champagne, Derek’s ‘business associate’, and the way he approached him afterwards just to warn him off.

When he was done, Scott hummed thoughtfully. It was not the reaction he was expecting or that he wanted. “He’s a player. Not the right man for you, Stiles. Forget about him.”

 

Stiles was shocked, quickly removing his body from the embrace, coupled with the reproachful look on his face. “Forget? Are you mad? The way he looks at me, Scott – it makes me want to be looked at like that forever.” he paused briefly. “By him.”

 

“Dude, this isn’t what I’m thinking this is, right?”

 

Stiles couldn’t deny it. He was smitten and wanted the Alpha, period. He sighed, feeling low all of sudden. “I know.” Sparks he had felt it in every single touch and he couldn't just let it go without knowing. It was rare feeling for him, a feeling that scared him as well as excited him. It made his wolf to surface and left an itchiness in him. 

 

“Distraction,” Scott declared, looking down at his batman Converse. “I went to the mall and saw new pair of batman chucks.”

 

Stiles eyes lit up instantly. “I’ve seen the new edition on-line.”

 

“New edition huh?” His arm slipped around Stiles shoulder and they started towards Scott’s Bike.

 

“Yep.” Stiles beamed.


	8. Chapter 8

Stiles had been away with the fairies all week. Every time the bistro door swung open, he looked for him. But he’d never there. A dozen men over the last four days have asked Stile his name, his number, or they’ve told him what stunning eyes he had. And each one he’d wished could be Alpha Derek.

 

Stiles had been busy churning out perfect coffee after perfect coffee, and he even waited at another posh function for Finstock on Tuesday, hoping the Alpha would be there. He wasn’t though.

 

He’d always tried to keep his life simple, but now he was craving a complication – a tall, dark-haired, mysterious complication.

It’s Saturday, and Scott had humoured him, tagging along for a walk through the Beacon hills children Park. Stiles knew his brother had figured that there was something on his mind.

 

For a long time they both walked in silence not knowing what to talk about, Stiles could feel Scott’s sideways glances on him. He kicks a pile of leaves as they traipse down the middle of the Park, towards Downtown. Stiles knew what Scott wanted to ask and wouldn’t hold out for much longer. He’s made all of the conversation, while Stiles had returned one-word answers. Stiles was not going to get away with it for much longer. He was clearly absent in mind, and he could probably muster up the energy to feign his normal self, but he did not want to. He wanted Scott to press more so he could talk about Alpha Derek.

 

“I’ve met someone.” The words fell from Stiles’ mouth, breaking the comfortable silence between them. Scott looked shocked, which was okay because Stiles was quite shocked, too.

 

“Who?” Scott asked, pulling Stiles to a stop.

“I don’t know.” Stiles shrugged, lowering his bum to the grass and picking at some of the blades.

“He turned up at the bistro a few times and also at a gala ball where I waited.”

 

Scott joined him, his face morphing into a big grin. “Stiles Stilinski McCall has been affected by an Alpha?” He paused briefly, contemplating. “Or a Beta.”

 

“Yes, Stiles Stilinski McCall has most definitely been affected by an Alpha.”  Stiles corrected as heat rose up his eyes making him eyes avert away from his friend, but it was such a relief for him to share the burden. “I can’t stop thinking about him,” He admitted.

 

“Ah!” Scott threw his arms in the air. “Is he hot?”

 

“Stupidly.” Stiles smiled on a low sigh. “He has the most amazing eyes. As green as grass with brown and yellow speckles .”

 

“I want to know everything,” Scott declared.

 

“There’s nothing more to tell.”

 

“Well, what did he say? Did he give you any token or Omega band. Approached for courting. At least a date?” Scott all but rushed eyes big and inquisitive.

 

“He asked if I was involved with anyone.” Stiles tried to sound casual, but failed.

 

“But why would he could he smell you... I mean being a Beta I can tell you are single and smell mostly of Ma and me.” Scott looked confused as he jogged his brain then his eyes widen as he leaned forward. “What did you say?”

 

“No.”

 

“It’s happened!” he sang, beaming. “Thank the fucking Lord, it’s finally happened!”

“Scotty.” Stiles scolded him, blushing even harder, but I couldn’t help laughing too. Scott was right; it has happened, and it’s

happened hard.

 

“Oh, Stiles.” Scott sat up straight, looking all serious. “You don’t know how long I’ve been waiting for this. I need to see him.”

 

Stiles scoffed, plucking more grass out, a bit harshly then he intended. “Well, that’s unlikely. He appears quickly and

disappears faster.”

 

“How old?”  Scott ignored Stiles and the excitement on his face is like nothing Stiles’d ever seen before. Stiles’d made his day – probably his month, or even his year. Scott’d tried relentlessly to drag him out to bars and forced him for the Biannual ceremony and other social gatherings.

 

“I’m guessing late-twenties, but he seems older. You know, very mature. He always wears very expensive-looking suits.” Stiles avoided the fact that this was the Alpha he had met and been with during his last heat.

 

“Perfect.” Scott rubbed his hands together. “Name?”

“D,” He said quietly.

““D”?” Scott’s face screwed up into a disapproving frown. “Who is he? Some secret agent?”

 

A burst of laughter flew from Stiles, and he giggled to himself while his friend looked on, waiting for confirmation that his muse had a name beyond one letter of the alphabet. “He signed with an D.”

 

“Signed?” His confusion deepens, as did his scowl. Stiles was not sure if he should divulge this part.

 

“He didn’t like my coffee and chose to let me know by writing it on a napkin. He signed it D, but I’ve since found out that his name is Derek.”

“Oooohhh, sexy! But the cheek!” Scott was shocked, displaying a similar reaction to what I did, but then his face straightened and he narrowed his eyes on me. “And how did that make you feel?”

 

“Inadequate.” Stiles said the word without thought, and he didn’t stop there. “Stupid, angry, irritated.”

 

Scott was smiling now. “He drew a reaction?” he asked. “You got a little mad?”

 

“Yes!” Stiles breathed, completely exasperated. “I was really pissed off.”

 

“Oh my God! I already love him.” He stood and put his hand out to pull Stiles up. “I bet he’s completely taken by you, like most Alphas on God’s green earth.”

 

Stiles stifled the coming retort because no Alpha was attracted to him accept this Mr.D and accepted his offer, letting his friend pull him to his feet. “They’re not.” He sighed, reflecting on the brief words that they exchanged; on one line in particular: _I’m quite fascinated by you, as well._

 

Did fascinated equal attracted?

 

“Trust me, they are.”

 

Suddenly Stiles was eager to spit it all out and see what Scott made of it. “I’ve kissed him three months back.”

 

Scott inhaled sharply. “What do you mean?” His back straightened, and narrowed his eyes. “The Alpha you’d?” His voice trailed off questioningly.

 

“Yes. He is the one. The only Alpha, Scott.” Stiles was not even ashamed but when Scott’s eyes bulged out for obvious reason he rushed to explain further. “We didn’t knot though, but at the party he pushed me away calling me an innocent. I mean who does that. It wouldn’t have been our first kiss.”

 

“Were you mad?”

 

“Furious.” Stiles frowned on a mild nod of his head.

 

“Yes!” Scott hands slap together, and Stiles was yanked into his embrace. “This is good. Tell me more.”

 

Stiles spilled the whole thing – the dropped champagne, Derek’s ‘business associate’, and the way he approached him afterwards just to warn him off.

When he was done, Scott hummed thoughtfully. It was not the reaction he was expecting or that he wanted. “He’s a player. Not the right man for you, Stiles. Forget about him.” Conceded

 

Stiles was shocked, quickly removing his body from the embrace, coupled with the reproachful look on his face. “Forget? Are you mad? The way he looks at me, Scott – it makes me want to be looked at like that forever.” he paused briefly. “By him.”

 

“Dude, It isn’t what I’m thinking it is right?”

 

Stiles couldn’t deny it. He was smitten and wanted the Alpha, period. He sighed, feeling low all of sudden. “I know.”

 

“Distraction,” Scott declared, looking down at his batman Converse. “I went to the mall and saw new pair of batman chucks.”

 

Stiles eyes lit up. “I’ve seen the new edition on-line.”

 

“New edition huh?” His arm slipped around Stiles shoulder and they started towards Scott’s Bike.

 

“Yep.” Stiles beamed.

 

Heather and Stiles were the last to leave the bistro. While Heather locked up, he carted the rubbish into the alley and dumped it in the wheelie bin.

 

“I’m going to have a long soak in the bath,” Heather said, linking arms with Stiles as they started wandering down the road. “With candles.”

 

“You’re not going out tonight?” Stiles asked.

 

“Nope. Mondays are shit, but Wednesday nights are bombing. You should come.” Her eyes twinkled suggestively, but dulled straight down when she clocked Stiles shaking his head. “Why not?”

 

“I don’t drink.” They cross the road, dodging the evening rush-hour traffic, getting honked at for not using the pedestrian crossing.

 

“Oh, fuck you!” Heather shouted, drawing a million looks in their direction.

 

“Heather!’ Stiles yanked her from the road, mortified.

 

She laughed and flipped the driver a finger. “Why don’t you drink?”

 

“I don’t like being unaware of myself.” The words just fell from his lips, shocking him and clearly shocking Heather, because her startled eyes swung to him . . . then she grinned.

 

“I think I might like drunken Stiles.”

 

I scoff in disagreement. “That’s me.” Stiles pointed to the bus stop as he stepped into the road, ready to cross again.

 

“See you tomorrow.” She leans in to kiss his cheek, and they both jump when they’re honked at again. Stiles ignored the impatient idiot, but Heather didn’t.

 

“For fuck’s sake! What is wrong with these people?” she shouted. “We’re not even in the way of your fancy Camaro, you Chevrolet-driving slut!” She stepped towards the car just as the passenger window started to slip down. Stiles felt the road rage brewing. Heather leaned in. “Learn to fucking dr—” She halted her rant, her back straightening as she pulled away from the black Camaro.

 

Curious, Stiles leaned down to find out what’d shut her up, and his heart skipped too many beats when he register the driver.

 

“Stiles,” Heather’s voice was barely heard over the rush of traffic and blurting of horns. She stepped away from the roadside. “I think he may have been honking at you.”

 

Stiles was still partially bent as his eyes trailed from Heather back to the car, where the man was sitting back, relaxed, with one hand draped casually on the steering wheel. “Get in,” he ordered shortly.

 

Stiles knew he was getting in the car, so he didn’t know why he looked to Heather for guidance. She shook her head. “Stiles, I wouldn’t. You don’t know him.”

 

Stiles returned to vertical and his mouth opens to speak, but no words formed. She’s right and he was torn, his eyes swinging from the car to his friend. Stiles was not careless or stupid – hadn’t been for a long time – although every thought running through his mind right was flooring that claim. He didn’t know how long he stood there deliberating, but he was distracted when the driver’s door of the Camaro swung open and Derek strode around the car clasping Stiles elbow and opening the passenger door.

 

“Hey!” Heather tries to reclaim her friend. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?”

 

He was pushed into the seat before Derek turned towards a stunned Heather. “I’m just going to talk to him.” He took a pen and paper from his inside pocket and scribbled something down before handing it to her. “That’s me. Ring the number.”

“What?” Heather snatched the paper from his hand and ran her eyes over it. “Ring the number.” Landing him with a reproachful glare, she dragged her phone from her bag and dialled.

 

A mobile started screeching, and Derek pulled an iPhone from his inside pocket before handing it to Stiles. “He has my phone. Ring it and he’ll answer.”

 

“I could ring his,” Heather pointed out, ending the call. “What the hell does that prove? You could take it off him the second you drive away.”

 

“Then I guess you’ll just have to take my word for it.” Derek shut the door and strode around the car, leaving Heather on the pavement, her mouth agape.

 

Stiles thought of jumping out, but he didn’t. He thought of protesting and cursing at him, but he didn’t. Instead, Stiles looked to my friend on the pavement and held up the iPhone that Derek’d just handed him. Heather was right though; this proved nothing, but it didn’t deter Stiles from doing something incredibly stupid – _I’m not frightened of him. He’s no danger to me, except, maybe, to my heart._

 

More car horns started screeching around them as Derek slide into the car before pulling hastily away from the curb without a word. Stiles didn’t feel nervous. Although he was practically been abducted on a busy Beacon Hills street and his stomach wasn’t even turning in panic. It was, however, fluttering with something else. He discreetly looked across to Derek, noting his dark suit and stunning profile. _I’ve never seen anything like him_.

 

It was silent in the enclosed space surrounding us, but something is speaking and it’s neither Derek nor Stiles. It was desire. And it was telling Stiles that he was about to experience something life-altering. He wanted to know where Derek was taking me, he wanted to know what Derek wanted to talk about, but his desire for this knowledge didn’t prompt him to ask, and Derek didn’t seem like he was going to offer the information up right now, so Stiles relaxed back into the soft leather of my seat and remained quiet. Then the stereo kicked in and Stiles was suddenly listening in wonder to Green Day’s ‘Boulevard of Broken Dreams’, a track he would never had paired with this mysterious man.

 

They were in the car for a long half-hour, stopping and starting with the rush-hour traffic, until Derek pulled into an underground car park. He seemed to be thinking hard as he shut off the engine and tapped his hand on the wheel a few times before letting himself out and making his way around to Stiles. Opening the door, Derek found Stiles eyes, and Stiles could see reassurance in them as he held his hand out. “Give me your hand.”

 

Stiles response is automatic, hand lifting to take his as Derek removed him from the car while savouring that familiar feeling of internal lightning bolts attacking his held palm. It was more incredible each time Stiles experienced it.

 

“There it is again,” Derek murmured as though reading Stiles’ mind and repositioning his hand to get a better grip on him. _He feels it, too._ “Give me your bag.”

 

Stiles handed him his bag immediately, involuntarily, not even thinking about it. He was on autopilot.

 

“Do you have my phone?” Derek asked, lightly kicking the door of his car shut and pulling Stiles towards a stairwell.

 

“Yes.” He held it up.

 

“Ring your friend and tell her you’re at my place.” Derek pushed through the door. “And call anyone else who might be worried about you.”

 

Stiles could do nothing more than follow the Alpha as they took the stairs slowly, still clasping his hand, leaving Stiles to make the calls he’s demanded. “I should use my phone,” Stiles said, fiddling with the iPhone. His clued-up adoptive mother would soon clock the strange number on the caller display and start asking questions – questions Stiles didn’t want to answer or even know how to.

 

“Your decision.” The Alpha’s lean shoulders shrugged as he continued pulling Stiles along behind him.

 

When they pass floor three, Stiles calves began to burn and his lips parted to try and get some air into my tiring lungs.

 

“What floor are you?” he asked on a little wheeze, ashamed of his fitness level. He walked a lot, but didn’t climb this many stairs on a regular basis.

 

“Ten,” Derek flipped over his shoulder casually. The knowledge of six more floors deflated Stiles lungs altogether and made his legs seize up.

 

“Are there no lifts?”

 

“Yes.”

 

“Then why . . .”  Stiles only had air capacity for a gasp and he let one out when Derek quickly scooped him up and pushed onward. He had no option but to cling onto Derek’s shoulders, his hold feeling right, his nose and eyes enjoying the closeness.

 

When they reach floor ten Derek pushed his way through the doorway into an empty corridor, then dropped Stiles to his feet and put the key into the lock of a shiny black door. “After you.”

He stepped to the side and gestured for Stiles to step in, which he did – without thought, protest or asking why Derek’d brought him here.

 

Stiles felt a palm on the base of his neck, warm and comforting, as he slowly make his way down the hallway, circling a huge round table, until the hallway opened up into a massive, marble-infested space with vaulted ceilings and colossal pieces of art at every turn, all paintings of America’s architecture. It was not the grandness of the apartment or the sea of cream marble that holds him rapt. It was those paintings – six of them, all carefully hung in selected spaces where they could be appreciated the most. They were not typical or traditional; they were abstract, making it so you needed to squint to see exactly what each was.

 

But Stiles knew these buildings and landmarks too well, and as he gazed around him, he identify them all – no squinting required.

He was gently guided towards the biggest cream-coloured leather couch he’d ever seen. “Sit.”

 

Derek pushed Stiles down and placed his bag next to him. “Call your friend,” he said, leaving Stiles to find my phone while Derek strode over to a large walnut cabinet and retrieved a tumbler, topping it up with a dark liquid.

 

Stiles dialled Heather and it rang only once before her fretful voice was piercing his ears. “Stiles?”

 

“It’s me,” Stiles said quietly, watching as Derek turned and leaned against the cabinet, taking a slow mouthful of his drink.

 

“Where are you?” It sounded like she was jogging. Her voice was slightly breathless.

 

“At his place. I’m okay.” He felt awkward explaining himself while Derek was watching so intently and could hear everything, but there was no escaping the steel gaze.

 

“Who the fuck does he think he is?” she asked incredulously. “And you’re beyond stupid for going, Stiles. What were you thinking?”

 

“I don’t know.” he answered honestly, because he really didn’t. He’d allowed the Alpha to take him, bundled him in his car, and brought his to a strange apartment. Stiles really was beyond stupid, but even now, when he was listening to his friend rant and rave down the phone and Derek was staring expressionless at him, Stiles was not frightened.

 

“Jesus,” she huffed. “What are you doing? What’s he saying? What does he want?”

 

“I don’t know.” Stiles watched Derek watching him as he took another slow sip of his drink.

 

“You don’t know a fucking lot, do you?” Heather fired, her heavy breathing settling down.

 

“No,” he admited. “I’ll call you when I get home.”

 

“You’d better.” Her tone was threatening. “If I don’t get a call by midnight, then I’ll be ringing the police. I took his registration.”

 

Stiles smile to himself, appreciative of his friend’s concern but knowing deep down that it was not required. Derek was not going to hurt him. “ll call you,” Hw assured her.

 

“Make sure you do.” She was still agitated. “And be careful,” she added more gently.

 

“Okay.” Stiles hung up and immediately dialled Melissa, keen to finish up and found out why the Alpha’d brought him here. It didesn’t take much explaining to her. She was delighted when Stiles told her that he was joining a few work friends for a coffee, as Stiles knew she would be.

 

He finished up and placed both my phone and Derek on the gigantic low glass table in front of him, then commenced twiddling the ring on his finger, wondering what to say. They were just staring at each other, Derek taking frequent sips of his drink and Stiles losing himself in that potent gaze.

 

“Would you like a drink?” Derek asked after some beats. “Wine, brandy?”

Stiles shook his head.

 

“Vodka?’”

 

“No.” Alcohol was a weakness Stiles didn’t need to know about, although he didn’t think that he needed alcohol to send him into reckless mode with this man. “Why am I here?” Finally the pressing question was asked.

 

Derek fingers tapped the side of his glass thoughtfully, and he pushed his tall body away from the cabinet, slowly walking towards Stiles. He undid his jacket button and lowered himself until he’s sitting on the table in front of Stiles, placing his drink carefully and breaking they eye contact to see where his glass had landed before tweaking it slightly and repositioning they mobile phones. Stiles heart rate was speeding up, even more so when Derek faced him and clasped him under his knees, encouraging Stiles to shift forward on the couch until there was only a few inches between their faces. Derek didn’t say anything, and neither did Stiles. Their breathy gasps colliding between their close mouths were saying all that needed to be said. We were both bursting at the seams with desire.

 

Derek face moved forward, that lock of hair falling onto his forehead, but he was not aiming for Stiles’ lips. He homed in on his cheek, breathing heavy, controlled breaths into his ear. Stiles’ face pushing into his is involuntary, as was the heaviness settling between his thighs.

 

“I can’t stop thinking about you,” he whispered, his grasp of Stiles’ knees increasing. “I’ve tried my hardest, but you’re a constant vision wherever I look.”

 

Stiles inhale deeply and found his hands rising and seeking out Derek thick waves, his fingers threading through them, his eyes closing. “You said you couldn’t be with me,” Stiles reminded him, stupidly or not. He shouldn’t point out Derek’s reluctance because if he withdrew now, Stiles thought he would lose my mind.

“I still can’t.” His face slides across Stiles until his perfect forehead is resting against Stiles’ confused one. _He can’t have brought me here just to reinforce his previous declaration. He can’t hold me like this, speak to me like this, and then do nothing._

“I don’t understand,” Stiles murmured, praying to every god that the Alpha didn’t halt this.

 

His forehead rolls across Stiles’ slowly, carefully. “I have a proposition.”  Derek must sensed Stiles’ confusion because he pulled away and scanned his face. Taking a deep breath, Stiles brace himself. “All I can offer you is one night.”

 

Stiles did’t need to ask what he was talking about. The dull ache in him stomach told me exactly what Derek meant. “Why?”

 

“I’m emotionally unavailable, Stiles.” He reached up to cup Stiles cheek, his thumb stroking smooth circles on the temple. “But I have to have you.”

 

“You want me for one night and nothing else?” Stiles asked, the ache transforming into a dull pain now. Just one night? It was obscene for him to be thinking further than that, though.

The best fuck of his life. That’s what Derek said. Nothing more.

 

“One night,” Derek affirmed. “And I’m praying that you’ll give it to me.”

 

Stiles was lost in those hazels, desperately hoping Derek’d say something else – something that would make him feel better, because right now he was feeling cheated, which was ridiculous. Stiles hardly knew the man, but the thought of only being permitted one night with him was soul destroying.

 

“I don’t think I can.” His eyes hell, as did his heart. “It’s not fair for you to ask that of me.”

 

“I’ve never claimed to be fair, Stiles.” He clasped Stiles’ chin and brought his face up to his. “I’ve seen something and I want it. I usually take what I want, but I’m giving you a choice.”

 

“What’s in it for me?” Stiles asked. “What will I get out of this?”

 

“You get to be worshipped by me for twenty-four hours.” Derek’s lips part and his tongue swept across his full bottom lip, like he was attempting to make Stiles see what those twenty-four hours might be like. Derek was wasting energy. Stiles had a very good idea what those twenty-four hours will be like.

 

“You said you could only offer me one night.”

 

“Twenty-four hours, Stiles.”

 

Stiles wanted to say yes, but his head started shaking, his integrity taking over. If he was going to get involved with an Alpha, it couldn’t be like this. Every method he’d adopted to protect myself from following in his mother’s footsteps would be quashed if he did this, and Stiles couldn’t let himself down like that. “I’m sorry. I can’t.” He shouldn’t be apologising for his decline of Derek’s unreasonable request, but he was sorry. Stiles wanted to be worshipped by him like his heat week, yet not enough to set himself up for certain devastation because that was exactly what this would result in. He already felt like he was in way above his head and Derek hadn’t even kissed him.

 

Derek visibly sagged and shifted back, breaking all contact between them. Stiles felt a little lost, which should strengthen his decision to decline the offer even more. One night would never be enough.

 

“I’m disappointed,” Derek sighed. “But I respect your decision.”

 

Stiles was disappointed that Derek respected his decision. He want Derek to fight harder, convince him to say yes. Stiles was not thinking straight. “I know nothing about you.”

Derek picked up his drink and took a sip, drawing Stiles eyes to those lips. “If you knew more, would you reconsider?”

 

“I don’t know.” Stiles felt frustrated and annoyed – annoyed that Derek was put him in this position.

 

It should be an easy decision, declining a stranger on such a proposition, but the longer Stiles spent with him, even if it was bizarre and far-fetched, the more Stiles wanted to retract his answer and take the twenty-four hours he’s offering.

 

“Well, you know my name now.” Derek lips were tipping a little, but it was nowhere near a smile.

 

“That’s all I know,” he fired back. “I don’t know your surname, your age, your job.”

 

“And you need to know all of that to spend the night with me?” His dark eyebrows rose, his lips tipping further. If he would only smile properly, Stiles’d feel like he knew Derek more. But should Stiles be increasing his fascination with the Alpha if it meant he’d only get more attached?

 

Stiles did’t know, so he shrugged non-committally and dropped his head.

 

“My name is Derek Hale,” he started, pulling Stiles eyes back to his. “I’m twenty-nine—“

 

“Stop!” Stiles held my hand up, halting the flow. “Don’t tell me. I don’t need to know.”

 

Derek cocked his head, slightly amused, even if he was still not demonstrating it with his mouth. “Don’t need to or don’t want to?”

 

“Both,” Stiles spat shortly, feeling the rarity of anger simmering inside him again. Derek made him feel irritated before he suggested something so ridiculous, but now Stiles was really feeling it. He stood, prompting Derek to shift back on the table and gaze up at him. “Thank you for the offer, but the answer is no.” He picked up his bag and phone and made for the door, getting no further than the end of the couch before he was taken gently and pushed front forward to the wall, his bag dropping to the marble, and his eyes clenching shut.

 

Derek chin was on his shoulder, his mouth at the ear. “You don’t sound convinced,” he whispers, raising his knee between Stiles thighs to spread them.

 

“I’m not,” Stiles confessed, cursing himself for his weakness. Derek body moulded to his back felt too right, when Stiles desperately wanted it to feel all wrong. Everything suggests that this was wrong, but the crazy rightness was making it hard to ignore the warning signs.

 

“And that’s exactly why I’m not letting you leave until you agree. You want me.” Derek turned Stiles around and pushed his palms into the wall on either side of his head. “Like the three days you have spent with me. You remember?”

 

Stiles took a breath and nodded. “Yes.”

 

“You were denying me then too. And do you remember how many times I’d made you cum, Stiles.”

 

“Derek.”

 

“And I want you now, like that time.”

 

“But just for twenty-four hours.” His voice was a panting wheeze as he fought to rein in his erratic breathing.

 

Derek noded and lazily lowers his mouth to his. He was unsure, hesitant; Stiles could see it in his eyes. But then he braved nibbling at Stiles’ bottom lip, pecking cautiously and whispering what seemed like encouraging words to himself before pushing into Stiles mouth with his tongue until Stiles relaxed and accept his soft invasion. Nothing would prevent Stiles from moaning, relaxing into the kiss and clasping Derek shoulders. It was heavenly, just like I knew it from his previous experience, but this wasn’t assisting with his sensibility. Nevertheless, Stiles push his doubts to the back of his mind and lost myself in Derek. He was worshipping Stiles, and the thought of twenty-four hours of this nearly made him break our kiss, just so he could scream ‘yes!’ But Stiles didn’t. Despite his enjoyment and mounting desire, Stiles concentrate on enjoying the only kiss he was going to receive from Derek Hale. And it was one he wanted to remember with the rest of the previous kisses and touches for the rest of his life.

 

Derek groaned, pushing his groin into Stiles tummy. His hardness throbs against Stiles. “Jesus, you taste divine. Say yes,” Derek mumbled into Stiles’ mouth, biting at his lip. “Please say yes.”

 

Stiles wanted to hold back his answer, just to drag out this exquisite kiss, but he was rapidly falling deeper with each second Derek spent seducing his mouth. “I can’t,” Stiles gasp, turning his face to the side to break their mouth contact. “I’d want more.” He knew he would want more, as crazy as it might seem. Stiles’d never looked for that connection, but if he had, then this would be it –something painfully good, all-consuming . . . something special and out of his control – something that would put his previous conclusions about intimacy to shame. He’d stumbled across it by accident, when least expected it, but it’d happened and Stiles couldn’t fall further knowing there was no hope and nothing but heartbreak waiting for him at the end of that twenty-four hours.

 

Derek released a frustrated growl and pushed himself away from the wall. “Shit,” he cursed, striding away, looking up at the ceiling. “I shouldn’t have brought you here.”

 

Stiles gather his muddled mind and straighten himself out, all the time leaning against the wall to hold himself steady. “No, you shouldn’t have,” He agreed, proud for sounding certain of that. “I should go.” he gathered his bag from the floor and head quickly to the door, not looking back.

 

When in was in the safety of the stairwell, he collapsed against the wall, breathing laboured and body shaking. _I’m was being sensible_. He needed to keep reminding himself of that.

 

Nothing good could come of this, except memories of an incredible day and night that I would never get to relive and already he was suffering with memories of his heat week and didn’t need to add some more to the package. It would be torture, and he refused to tease himself, give himself a another taste of something so amazing – because he knew it would be – just to have it robbed from him.

 

Never. He refused to become his mother. Resolute and satisfied with the decision, Stiles took the stairs and found his way to a subway station.

 

Later in the night, curled around Scott in the bed with his brother sleeping peacefully and unaware of Stiles' distress... Stiles thought of it. Playing the episode over and over in his mind. And for the first time in many years, Stiles needed an alcoholic drink.


	9. Chapter 9

Stiles’d not been himself all week. It’d been noticed and mentioned, but his despondent state had halted further interrogation, except from Scott, who Stiles was sure was reporting back to Melissa, because she’d gone from curious and pushy to concerned and sympathetic. She’d also made Stiles lemon cake every single day.

Stiles was clearing the last table, absent-mindedly swishing the cloth from side to side when the door to the bistro swung open and he was confronted with Mr Wide Eyes.

He smiled awkwardly, shutting the door quietly behind him. “Am I too late for a takeaway?” he asked.

“Not at all.” Stiles grabbed the tray and dumped it on the counter before loading up the filter. “Cappuccino?”

“Please,” he said politely as his footsteps got closer to the counter.

Stiles busied himself, ignoring Heather when she passed with the bins and paused, clearly after clocking the customer. “Cute,” she said simply, before continuing on her way. Stiles agreed with his friend; the guy was cute, but it was too much like hard work trying to fight another Alpha from his mind to appreciate it.

Mr Wide Eyes was the type of Alpha Stiles should pay more attention to – if he was going to give his attention to any Alphas – not moody, dark, enigmatic ones, who only wanted twenty-four hours and nothing else.

Firing up the steam pipe, Stiles started heating the milk, swirling the jug and making a rushing hissing of noise in time with his racing mind. He poured, sprinkled, and secured the lid, then turned to deliver his perfect coffee.

“Three-eighty, please.” He held his hand out. Four dollars were placed carefully in his palm as he stabbed the order through the till with his free hand.

“I’m Theo,” the customer said slowly. “Can I ask your name?”

“Stiles,” he flipped, tossing the coins into the drawer carelessly.

“And you’re involved with someone?” Theo asked cautiously, drawing a frown from Stiles.

“I’ve already told you that.” For the first time, Stiles allowed Theo’s charming looks to push past his mental protective wall and the images of Derek. His dark brown hair styled, and looked just right on him, and his clear blight hazel eyes were warm and friendly. “So why are you aski—” Stiles halted mid-sentence and casted his eyes over to Heather, who’d just pushed her way back through the bistro door, minus two trash bags. He hit her with a reproachful look, knowing damn well she’d told Mr Wide Eyes here that Stiles was perfectly available.

She didn’t hang around to soak up Stiles animosity, instead skulking off to the kitchen where she would be safe.

Mr Wide Eyes, or Theo as Stiles knew him now, was shifting nervously, blatantly ignoring the guilty friend as she disappeared from sight.

“My friend has a big mouth.” Stiles handed him his change. “Enjoy your coffee.”

“Why did you fob me off?’

“Because I’m not available.” Stiles repeated himself because it was still true, even if it was for a totally different reason now. He might have refused Derek’s offer, but it had not made forgetting the Alpha any easier. Stiles’ fingers reached up and rested on his lips, feeling the soft, full ones still there, lingering, tickling, and biting. He sighed. “It’s closing time.”

Theo slid a card across the counter, and tapped it lightly before releasing it. “I’d love to take you out sometime, so if you decide you’re available it would be great to hear from you.” Stiles looked up and Theo winked, a cheeky smile spreading across his face. He returned his small smile and watched the Alpha leave the bistro, whistling happily as he went.

“Is it safe?” Heather’s apprehensive voice drifted in from the kitchen, and Stiles turned to see her black-haired head popping up over the swing door.

“You told him, you traitor!” He started yanking at his apron string.

“It might have slipped.” She still didn’t venture into the bistro, choosing to remain protected behind the swing door. “Come on, Stiles. Cut him a break.” Her attention was firmly set on Theo now, after he followed through on her request to call before midnight the night Derek snatched him from the roadside. He didn’t tell her the details, but his despondent state down the line told her all she needed to know – no enlightenment of shocking propositions required.

“Heather, I’m not interested,” He argued idly, shaking the apron out and hanging it on the coat pegs.

“You didn’t say that about the rude fucker in the sexy Camaro.”  
She knew she shouldn’t be mentioning him, but she had a point and every right to make it. “I’m just saying, that’s all.”

Stiles shook his head in complete exasperation and pushed past her, heading into the kitchen to grab his jacket and satchel. All of these emotions – the annoyance, the irritation, the heavy heart and the uncertainty, were all a result of one thing . . .  
An Alpha.

“I’ll see you in the morning,” He called, letting Heather lock up the shop on her own.

His peaceful stroll toward the bus stop was short-lived when he heard Scott calling him. Most uncharitably he sighed, pivoting slowly and not even bothering to plaster an insincere smile on his tired face.  
He was in his gardening clothes, looking all grubby with blades of grass in his messed-up hair. As soon as he reached Stiles, his arm draped over the omega’s shoulder and pulled him into his side. “Going home?”

“Yeah. What are you doing?”

“I’ve come to give you a lift.” He sounded genuine, but Stiles knew different

“Come to take me home or come to squeeze me for information?” Stiles retorted drily, earning himself a flick of hip into his waist.

“How are you feeling?”

Stiles thought carefully about what word to use in an attempt to prevent further interrogation. Scott knew enough and had filled Melissa in, too. He wouldn’t be enlightening his brother on the twenty-four-hour proposition, either, which he was now in two minds over.

Stiles said no and later felt like crap, so perhaps he should just dive right in and feel like crap, anyway. But at least he would have an experience to remember while he would be feeling like crap—something to relive.

“Good,” he answer eventually, letting Scott lead the way to the blue Jeep—the same blue Jeep that Stiles’ mother once used to drive before he left them.

“If he’s said he’s emotionally unavailable, Stiles, it can’t be a good sign. You’ve made the right decision not to see him again.”

“I know,” Stiles agreed agree. “So why can’t I stop thinking about him?”

“Because we always fall for the wrong men.” Scott leaned in and kissed his forehead. “The ones who will mess us around and stamp all over our heart. I’ve been there, done that, and I’m glad you’ve held back before falling too far. I’m proud of you. You deserve better.”

Stiles knew who his brother was talking about. He was talking about Allison Argent. The beautiful brunette Omega from high school who trampled Scott’s little innocent heart because he wasn’t a wealthy Alpha.

Stiles smiled wistfully, remembering the times when he’d held Scott’s hand after he’d fallen victim to Allison’s charm, except Derek wasn’t charming – not in the least bit. It was difficult to nail exactly what it is about him, except for his spectacular looks, but that feeling . . . oh God that feeling. And what Scott had just said was perfectly accurate.

There was a lack of a mother in his life because of her poor decisions when it came to Alphas’. That alone should had him running in the other direction from this mysterious Alpha, but instead he was being drawn in.

Derek’s lips were still soft on his, his flesh is still warm from the touch and Stiles’d lain in bed every night replaying that kiss. Nothing would ever measure up to those feelings.

Scott let them in the house and both head to the back kitchen. Stiles could hear Mesilla and Deaton chatting and the sounds of a wooden spoon colliding with the side of a huge metal pot – a stewpot. It was stew and dumplings tonight.

Stiles screwed his face up and contemplate escaping to the local chippy. He couldn’t stand Melissa’s stew, but it was Dr. Deaton’s favourite and he was here for supper, so it looked like they were having stew.

“Scott!” Melissa dived on him and smothered his face with her marshmallow lips causing him to cringe and squirming and throwing a helpless look at Stiles to which he rolled his eyes fondle. “You should have dinner before heading out.” She pointed to a chair before moving on to Stiles, assaulting him with her squidgy lips too, and then placing him on a chair next to Scott. “I do love it when we’re all here,” she declared happily.

“Stew?”

Everyone raised their hands, including Stiles even though he didn’t want stew.

“Sit down, Scott,” Melissa orders when he caught her son making an silent escape towards the staircase.

Stiles laughed at him as he made a face but wisely sat down in his appointed seat, looking at Stiles and Dr. Deaton with pursed lips when he saw them both smirking at his wary move. “You say no to her,” he whispered.

“Pardon?” Melissa swung round, tucking a wayward curl behind the ear, and they all straightened then faces and backs, like good little children.

“Nothing,” they chanted in unison, each one earning a few seconds of narrowed eyes from the dear nurse.

“Hmm.” She placed the stewpot on the table. “Tuck in.”

Dr. Deaton virtually dived into the pot, while Stiles just picked at some bread, breaking off tiny bits and chewing quietly while everyone chatted happily.

Derek flashed into his mind, making him blink his eyes shut. He still could smell the Alpha, which made him hold his breath. He could feel the Alpha’s heated touch, making him shift in the chair. Stiles was having a mental row with himself as he tried to bat way images of the Alpha, memories of him and the sound of his smooth voice.

Stiles was failing on every level. Falling for this man could be a disaster. Everything suggests it would be, and that should be good enough, but it was not. He felt weak and vulnerable, and he hated it. Nor did he liked the thought of not seeing the Alpha again.

“Stiles, you’ve hardly touched your dinner.” Melissa snapped him from the daydream, tapping her spoon on the side of his untouched bowl.

“I’m not hungry.” Stiles pushed the bowl away and stood. “Excuse me. I’m going to bed.” He felt three sets of concerned eyes on him as he left the kitchen, but he was past caring. Yes, Stiles I-don’t-ever-need-a-Alpha Stilinski had fallen, and he’d fallen stupidly hard. And worst of all, he’d fallen for someone he couldn’t, and probably shouldn’t, have.

Stiles dragged his heavy body up the stairs and flopped into bed, not bothering to undress and not bothering to take a shower. It was not even time for bed, but burying himself under the thick quilt soon remedied that. He wanted silence and darkness so he could torture himself some more.

Friday dragged painfully. He avoided Melissa and Scott, choosing to skip breakfast and face the worried call that he knew he’d get on his way to work. Melissa wasn’t happy but she couldn’t shove cornflakes down Stiles throat from a mile away.

Body, Bobby and Heather had all tried and failed to coax a genuine smile from him, and Theo dropped in for a coffee again, just to see if Stiles’d changed his mind on his relationship status. The Alpha was persistent, Stiles would give him that, and he is cute and quite funny, too, but the said Omega in question was still not interested.

Stiles’d been thinking of something all day long, and he kept going to ask, but then bottled it, knowing what reaction he would get. And he could hardly blame Heather. But Heather has his number, and Stiles wanted it. They were closing up the bistro and Stiles was running out of time. “Heather?” Stiles said slowly, twirling his cloth innocently. It’ was a silly attempt to look sweet, given what he was about to ask.

“Stiles,” she mimicked his careful tone, full of suspicion.

“Do you still have Derek’s number?”

“No!” She shook her head furiously, rushing into the kitchen. “I threw it away.”

Stiles made chase, not willing to give up. “But you dialled him from your phone,” he reminded her, smacking into her back when she halted.

“I deleted it,” she spited unconvincingly. She was going to make Stiles beg or pin her down and steal her phone. Stiles knew this much.

“Please, Heather. I’m going out of my mind.” His hands met in front of his pleading face, forming praying hands.

“No.” She broke the joined hands apart and pushed them to Stiles’ sides. “I heard your voice when you’d left his apartment, and I also saw your face the next day. Stiles, a sweet thing like you doesn’t need to be getting involved with a man like that.”

“I can’t stop thinking about him.” His teeth were clenched, like he was mad for admitting it. He was mad. He was mad for appearing so desperate, and he was even madder for actually being desperate.  
Heather sidestepped him and pushed her way back into the bistro, her ponytail swishing from side to side. “No no no, Stiles. Things happen for a reason, and if you were meant to be with . . .”

Stiles collided with her back again when she trailed off and stopped dead in her tracks. “Stop stopping!” he yelled, feeling the building frustration getting the better of him. “What’s the . . .” It was him who trailed off now, as he looked past Heather and saw Derek standing by the bistro entrance, looking smooth in a grey three-piece suit, his hair a mess of dark waves, his green eyes crystal clear and sinking into him.

Derek stepped forward, completely ignoring Stiles’ work friend, and kept his eyes on Stiles. “Have you finished work?”

“No!” Heather blurted, stepping back, pushing Stiles with her. “No, he hasn’t.”

“Heather!” Stiles hissed and muscled his way past her with some determined effort until it was him pushing her back into the kitchen. “I know what I’m doing,” he said on a hushed whisper. That was not true at all. He had no idea what he was doing.

She grabbed his arm and leaned in. “How can someone go from being so sensible to so damned insane in such a short space of time?” she asked, glancing over my shoulder. “You’re going to get yourself in trouble, Stiles.”

“Just leave me.”

Stiles could see she was torn, but she eventually relented, though not before tossing a warning look in Derek’s direction. “You’re mad,” she huffed, turning on her biker boots and stomping off, leaving them alone.

Taking a deep breath, Stiles turned and faced the man who had invaded every second of thinking space since Monday. “Would you like a coffee?” he asked, indicating the giant machine behind him.

“No,” Derek answered quietly, walking forward until he was standing mere feet away from Stiles. “Take a walk with me.”

A walk? “Why?”

Derek flicked his eyes to the kitchen entrance, clearly uncomfortable. “Get your bag and jacket.”

Stiles did as told, with fluttering movements in his chest and without much thought. He ignored Heather stunned face as he entered the kitchen and grabbed his bag and jacket. “I’m off now,” he said, hastily leaving her ranting at Bobby and Boyd. Stiles heard her call him stupid and he heard Boyd call him a grown-up. They were both right.

Throwing his satchel across his body, he approached Derek and his eyes closed when the Alpha clasped his big warm palm around the base of Stiles’ neck—the most sensitive part of an Omega, which caused his breathe to hitch mildly— to guide him out of the bistro.

Stiles was directed across the road into the small square where  
Derek sat him on a bench and took a seat next to him, turning his body to face him. “Have you thought about me?” he asks.

“Constantly,” Stiles admitted. He was not beating around the bush. he had, and he wanted Derek to know it.

“So will you spend the night with me?” There was slight tinge of hopefulness in Derek’s voice, which Stiles could easily detect, and oddly it made his chest to expand and contract on a long-suffering breathe.

“Still just twenty-four hours?” he clarified, and Derek nodded. Stiles heart falls, not that it’ would stop him from agreeing. He couldn’t possibly feel any worse than he already did.

Derek hand rested on his knee, squeezing gently. “Twenty-four hours, no strings, no commitment and no feelings, except pleasure.” Releasing Stiles’ knee, Derek shifted his hand to his chin and pulled his face close to his own. “And it will be pleasurable, Stiles. I promise.”

Stiles didn’t doubt him for a second. He already had a firsthand experience about the Alpha’s sexpetise and wondered how many more Omegas had fallen into this trap. He winced inwards and hastily put a lead on his thoughts. Young and unmated Alpha did participate in play mating now a days, helping young and unmated Omega’s though their heat. Although there were strict rules where both the Alpha and the Omega had to take medications so they didn’t form any pre-mating bond or emotional bond during the period.

But Beacon Hills still was little conservatives and encouraged unmated Omegas to take suppressor and other pills which caused the them to mate in a very young age, just to escape the torture of suffering though a lonely and painful heat.

“Why do you want this?” Stiles asked. He knew city Omegas were notoriously deeper than Alpha, but Derek was asking him to disregard something that he simply couldn’t. This wasn’t just lust he was feeling for the Alpha – at least he didn’t think it was. Stiles was confused. He didn’t even know what he was feeling.

For the first time since they has met, Derek smiled It was a proper smile – a beautiful smile . . . and Stiles fell a little bit more. “Because I simply have to kiss you again.” Leaning in, he gently rested his lips on Stiles’. Stiles let out a soft startled gasp and prayed to heaven nobody were seeing them. It would be scandalous to put it mildly. “It’s new to me. I need to taste you some more.”

New? It was new to him? What, like different from his usual polished, diamond-adorned Omega? Stiles felt slighted.

“And because what we can create together shouldn’t be passed up, Stiles.”

“The best fuck of my life?” he asked against the soft lips, feeling the Alpha smile again.

“And a whole lot more.” Derek pulled away, leaving him feeling bereft. It might be a feeling that Stiles should get used to by now. “Where do you live?”

“I live with my adoptive mother and brother.” He didn’t know why he said adoptive, maybe to justify his living arrangement. “South Carron Street.”

A look of surprise flitted across Derek dark brow and Stiles must admit they were thick, perfect as the man himself and very much expressive. “Tell your mother you’ll be back tomorrow night. What’s the address?”

“What will I say?’ He asked, suddenly panicked. Stiles’d never stayed out for a whole night, and no plausible reason to do so now was coming to him.

“I’m sure you’ll think of something.” Derek stood, putting his hand out to Stiles, and he took it, letting him being pulled to his new Batman converse clad feet.

“No, you don’t understand.” This would be impossible to pull off. “I’m an unmated Omega and they don’t stay out at night. She’ll never believe me if I try to fob her off with anything other than the truth, and I can’t tell her about you.’ Stiles would kill her off with shock. Or maybe he wouldn’t. Maybe she’d dance around the kitchen, clapping her hands and thanking the Lord. Knowing Melissa, it’d be the latter.

“You never go out?” Derek frowned, the dark perfect eyebrows twitched in the middle.

“No.” Stiles faked nonchalance to within an inch of his life. Maybe Derek was really an outsider and had no knowledge about Beacon Hills rules about unmated Omegas.

“And you’ve never stayed out overnight? Not even at a Omega- friend’s?”

Stiles’d never been embarrassed by this lifestyle . . . until now. He suddenly felt young, naive and inexperienced, which was ridiculous. He needed to locate his long-lost sass. While Derek’d promised him mindblowing sex, what did he get out of it, because Stiles was certainly no sex kitten who’d rock his bed. A man like this must had Omegas forming a queue at his front door, all kitted out in satin or lace, all in expensive shoes and stilettos and all ready to send him wild with desire.

Stiles shook his head, looking down to the ground. “Remind me why you want to do this again.”

“If you’re speaking to me, isn’t it polite to look at me?” Derek tips his chin up. “You don’t seem like a selfdoubter.”

Stiles refrained from snorting, because he had a bag full of selfdoubt. “I’m not usually.” Which was also true. He never doubted that he should have had a nice little dick with cute pair of balls, all smooth and silky, instead of a weird looking vagina that had to be waxed from the local Omega hygiene shop. It was a rule all of the trans-Omega had to adhere to, including other poking and prodding they had to undergo every mother.

“What’s changed?”

“You.”

That one word made Derek shift uncomfortably, and Stiles immediately regret saying it. “Me?”

Stiles head dropped again. “I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.”

“I’m not uncomfortable,” he argued quietly, “but now I’m wondering whether this is a good idea.”

Stiles head snapped up, panicked that Derek might withdraw his offer. “No, no, no , no, I want to do this.” He did not know what he was saying but it didn’t stop him from babbling on some more. “I want twenty-four hours with you. I don’t care if it’s compelety going against the social norm of Beacon Hills, Alpha-Omega mating habits. Even Lydia and Jackson have done this. So even I can, so what I’m not like normal omegas” he step into his chest and looked up to the green eyes – the ones he was going to lose himself in very soon, if he hadn’t already. “I need this.”

 Again, the expressive eyebrows twitched furrowing little deeper, lips straightened to form a grim line. “Why do you need it, Stiles?” Derek murmured.

Stiles’ eyes lashed fluttered when he felt them bled its purple hue and shifted his gaze to Derek’s luscious pick lips, surrounded by well groomed dark stubble. He was little mortified but confessed anyway. “I need it to show myself that I’ve been doing things wrong for too long.” He braved a kiss and reached up on his tiptoes to push his lips to his, hoping he’d remind the Alpha of what it felt like last time, hoping he experienced the surge of energy, too. Before Stiles could even think to engage his tongue, he was wrapped in strong arms and being pulled up to the suit clad hard chest, their mouths fused, they bodies bonded, his heart falling further. Derek’s lips on his and his hard body coating him felt . . . right. Stiles felt right.

“Are you sure?” Derek removed him from the embrace, holding him at arm’s length and hunkering down to ensure he had got Stiles' eyes and attention. “I’ve made clear how it’ll be, Stiles. If you can deal with that, then for the next twenty-four hours, it’s just us – my body and your body doing incredible things.”

Stiles nodded his head convincingly, even though he was not at all sure. He could see doubt lingering on that stunning face, which pushed me to force a smile, worried that Derek might pull out on their deal. Stiles might not know what he was doing, but he certainly didn't know what he’d do if Derek walked away now.

“Okay,” Derek said heaving a breathe, sliding his hand around Stiles’ nape and pulling him into him. “I’ll take you home.” He started to guide Stiles from the square, his palm secured firmly on the neck as he pushed Stiles onward. Stiles glanced up to him, just to check he was there – to check that it wasn’t a dream.

Derek was there, and was gazing down at him, assessing him, probably analysing his mental state.

 _Should I ask him his conclusion because I haven’t the foggiest?_ Stiles thought helplessly. All he knew was that Derek’s was his for the next twenty-four hours, and he was Derek's. And Stiles just hoped that he didn’t find himself in further desolation once the time was up. He was ignoring the voice in his head, currently screaming at him to stop this right now. He knew how this’d turn out, and it was likely to be messy. But Stiles just couldn’t refuse Derek anymore. Or his own self.


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a short chapter.   
> I'll post the next chapter tomorrow.

“I’ll wait here for you.” Derek pulled up outside Stiles’ house and took his phone from his pocket, waving it at Stiles. “I have a few calls to make.”

 

Derek was going to wait? And he was going to wait outside his house? No, no he couldn’t. Hell, Melissa might had probably sniffed them out already. Stiles looked up to the bay window at the front of their house, watching for twitching curtains. “I can get a cab to your place,” he tried, making a mental list of things he needed to do once he got inside – shower, shave . . . everywhere, moisturise, spritz, make-up . . . tell the fattest lie he ever would.

 

“No.” Derek dismissed the offer without even looking at him. “I’ll wait. Go get your things.”

 

Stiles winced, letting himself out of his car and walking slowly, cautiously, up the path to the house, like Melissa might hear him if he went any faster—Beta didn’t have sharp senses as Alphas did. He inserted the key slowly. He turned it slowly and pushed the door open slowly. He lifted his foot slowly, ready to step inside, clenching his teeth when the door creaked.

Damn.

Melissa’s stood three feet away, her arms folded, her foot tapping the patterned carpet.

 

“Who’s that man?” she asked, her thin dark eyebrows raising. “And why are you behaving like a cat burglar, hmmm?”

 

“He’s my boss.” Stiles blurted the words fast, and so began the fattest lie he’d ever tell. “I’m working tonight. He’s brought me home to change.”  


Stiles definitely saw a wave of disappointment travel across her face. “Oh, well . . .” She turned, losing interest in the man outside immediately. “I won’t bother with dinner then.”

 

“Okay.”

 

Stiles took the stairs two at a time and burst into the bathroom, cranking the shower on and stripping down at lightning speed. Then he dived in before it warmed up. “Oh shit!” he pinned himself to the side, goose pimples invading his creaming white skin, and body shivering uncontrollably.

 

“Shit, shit shit! Warm up!” His hand hovered under the spray, and was frantically egging the hot water on. “Come on, come on.”

 

After far too long, it was just warm enough to bear, and he stepped under, making super-fast work of washing his hair, soaping everywhere and shaving . . . everywhere. By the time he sprinted across the landing in a towel and made it into the safety of his room, he was out of breath. Under normal circumstances, it usually took him ten minutes flat to throw some clothes on, give his face a quick brush over with some powder, and rough dry my hair. But now he cared; now he wanted to look nice. And he hadn’t got bloody time to do it.

 

“Underwear,” he prompted himself, hurrying over to the drawers and yanking the top one open, instantly grimacing at the piles of cotton panty briefs. He cursed searching and praying to have something – anything other than cotton, please!

 

After five minutes of assessing each and every piece of underwear he owned, Stiles found that he was, in fact, a cotton Omega, with no lace, satin, or leather in sight. He knew that, but maybe he thought a sexy pair of something might magic their way into the drawer to save him from underwear humiliation. He was wrong, but with little else to do, pulled on my white cotton panties before blasting his hair, brushing some light compact across his face, and pinching his cheeks and nude lip-gloss. So what he was a boy, Omegas had birth right on make-up.

 

And now he was staring at his satchel and wondering what he need to pack. He had no lingerie, no stilettos, no leather shoes or anything remotely sexy. What was he thinking? What was Derek thinking?

 

Stiles dropped his backside on the edge of the bed and had his head his hands and his shoulders slumped dramatically. He should stay here and hoped Derek would get fed up with waiting and leave, because all of a sudden, this didn’t seem like such a good idea. In fact, it was the dumbest idea he’d ever had, and happy with that conclusion he crawled under the covers of his bed and hid his face in a pillow.

 

The Alpha was rich, he was stunning, he was refined, if a bit stand-offish, brooding and he wanted Stiles for twenty-four hours? He needed his head tested. These thoughts plagued Stiles’ poor omega mind, while he tried to fight his instinct to go down and jump the said Alpha waiting for him as he hid from the world, until he reached a perfectly solid conclusion. Derek must have had arm candy throwing themselves at his feet daily – hell, Stiles’d seen one already – and they must all be dripping in diamonds, designer handbags and shoes that cost more than his monthly wage. So maybe he wanted to try something a little different – Derek had already said so – something like Stiles – an average waiter, who fucked up coffee on daily basis, had too much nervous energy coursing though his body, and threw trays of expensive champagne everywhere.

 

He pushed his face further into the pillow and groaned. “Stupid, stupid, stupid Stiles.”

 

“No you’re not.”

 

Stiles bolted upright and almost had a coronary when he saw Derek sitting in the armchair in the corner of the room, legs crossed at the ankles, elbow resting on the arm, his chin in his palm.

 

Fuck...

 

 “What the hell?” he jumped up and ran to my bedroom door, swinging it open to check for old ears pushed up against the wood. Nothing, but he didn’t feel any better. Melissa must have let him in. “How did you get up here?” he slammed the door and flinched when it reverberated through the house.

 

Derek didn’t. He was perfectly collected, not in the least bit affected by Stiles’ flustered state.

 

“Your mother should take security a little more seriously.” He rubbed his index finger slowly across his stubbled chin, his eyes taking a leisurely jaunt down Stiles’ body.

 

It was only then he realise that he was standing in an underwear, and his arms instinctively crossed over his chest, attempting in vain to conceal his modesty from the roving eye. Stiles was horrified, even more so when Derek’s lips tip at the edge and his eyes sparkled as they land on his.

 

“You’d better lose your bashfulness, Stiles.” Derek stood, casually strolling over to him, sliding his hands in his grey trouser pockets. His chest met Stiles’, and he looked down at him, not touching Stiles with his hands, but touching him with absolutely everything else. “Then again, I quite like your shyness.”

 

Stiles was shaking – physically shaking, and no amount of pep talking was halting it. He wanted to appear confident, nonchalant and carefree, but didn’t know where to start. Decent underwear might be a good place.

 

Derek bent down; getting his face in the line of Stiles’ dropped sight, and causing Stiles to lift his gaze, only very slightly,

“My twenty-four hours don’t start until I get you in my bed.”

 

Stiles felt his brow furrow completely, little accusatory. “You’re really going to time it?” He asked, wondering if Derek would produce a stopwatch.

 

“Well.” Derek started and looked down at his expensive watch. “It’s six-thirty now. By the time I get you uptown in rush hour, it’ll be approximately seventhirty. I have a charity ball tomorrow evening around seven-thirty, so I’ve timed this just perfectly.”

 

Yes, he had timed it perfectly. So when the clock struck seven-thirty, was he getting tossed out on his little Omega ass? Was he getting turned into a little orange pumpkin? Stiles felt jilted already and they hadn’t even started, so what was he going to feel like after seven-thirty tomorrow evening? Like shit, that was what – rejected, unworthy, depressed and abandoned. He opened his mouth to call a stop on the whole diabolical arrangement, but then heard the sound of footsteps clumping up the stairs.

 

“Oh shit, my Mel’s coming!” His palms met the suit-covered chest and pushed into it, guiding Derek back towards a built-in cupboard. Stiles was panicking, but he was still appreciating the solidness beneath his flat palms. It made his steps to falter and his heart to jump wildly. He peered up at Derek and found his hooded red-rimmed gaze.

 

“Feel good?” Derek asked, sliding his palms around Stiles’ back and circling his waist. He held his breath, staring at those bleeding crimsons, losing himself in them, then he vaguely heard the creaking again. It snapped him right out of the lustful state.

‘You need to hide.’

 

Derek snorted his disgust and moved his grip to Stiles’ wrists, detaching him from his chest. “I’m not hiding anywhere.”

 

“Derek, please, she’ll have heart failure if she catches you in here.” Stiles felt beyond stupid for making Derek do this, but he couldn’t let his adoptive mother barge into the room and see them. He knew she’d go into seizure, and it’d be in shock, but it wouldn’t be shock of the ordinary kind. No, Melissa would pass out for a few seconds, then she’d throw a fucking celebratory party and would start making plans for Stiles’ mating ceremony.

 

 

Stiles released a frustrated, suppressed yell, forgetting all embarrassment with regards to his lack of attire, and gave Derek pleading eyes. “She’ll get excited,” He tried to explain. “She prays to the Lord Almighty every day for my self-discovery.” They were running out of time. They could hear the floorboards creaking as she got closer to the door of the room. “Please.” His naked shoulders sag, defeated. Stiles could barely do this to himself, let alone to Melissa or Scott. It would be cruel to build her hopes up with a complete non-starter. “I won’t ask for anything else, just please don’t let her see you.”  


Derek’s mouth formed a straight line and his head dropped forward a little, lips lingers against Stiles’ briefly, hot breathe fanning his face, and without a word, he released Stiles and moved across the

room, but he didn’t step into the cupboard; he went behind the floor-length curtains. Stiles couldn’t see him, so he didn’t argue.

 

“Stiles McCall-Stilisnki!”

 

He swung around, hands failing. He caught him before crushing into the door, as he grabbed the knob wrenching open the door and found Melissa in the doorway. She pushed passed him crossing the thresohold, her eyes roaming all over the room, like she knew her son was hiding something.

 

“What’s up?” he asked, silently scolding himself for his poor choice of words. What’s up? he would never say that, and her suspicious face notes this, too.

 

Her eyes narrowed, making Stiles feel even more conspicuous. “That man—”

 

“What man?”  Stiles tongue pocked at his cheek inwardly cursing himself. He needed to shut up and let her spit it out, not intercepting her and making her even more suspicious.

 

“That man in the car outside,” she continued, resting her hand on the doorknob. “Your boss.”

 

Stiles must have visibly relaxed, because she ran her eyes over his semi-naked form, knowing plastered all over her face. She still thought Derek was out there, which was just perfect.

 

“What about him?” He pulled a skinny jeans from the drawer and hopped in, shimmying them up his legs and fastening the fly before snatching a white over-sized T-shirt from the back of the dressing table chair.

 

“He’s gone.”

 

Stiles froze with the T-shirt halfway over his head, one arm fed through a sleeve and the neck caught around over his nose, keeping his eyes exposed. “Where?” He asked, no other words springing to mind.

 

“I don’t know, but one second he’s there, and I know because I could see the top of his head through the slightly open window, then I turn to tell Dr. Deaton that he has one of those fancy car things, and when I look back . . . poof, he’s gone. But that swanky car is still there” – her foot started tapping – “and parked illegally, I might add.”

 

Stiles was immobilised by guilt. She was like Miss bloody Marple. “He’s probably nipped to the shop,” Stiles said, untangling himself from the T-shirt and pulling it down his body. He made quick work of shoving his feet in my hot-pink Converse. Christ, he had to get Derek out yet, and Melissa was still there with the look of suspicion, that was making him more nervous.

 

“The shop?” She laughed. “The nearest is a mile away. He’d drive.”

 

Stiles fought to prevent an irritated screech escaping. “What does it matter where he’s gone?” he grumbled, then dived right in with the building of his greatest lie. “Oh, and I’m staying at Malia’s tonight. Remember her from high school. My little crush.” Shit oh fuck he needed to stop talking!

 

His shoulders rose in anticipation for her gasp of shock, but it didn’t come, and that had him turning to see if Melissa was still in the room. She was there, and she was grinning. Fucking great.

 

“Really? Like still having little crush?” she asked, her eyes twinkling in delight as she ram them down my static form. “So is this date or something. You have condoms right?”

 

Stiles’ cheeks had never burned from embarrassment, like they were right now. They were on fire, literally. He could die of it.

 

“I’m not going for a hook up, Mel.” His voice was high and squeaky as he busied himself, collecting toiletries and packing what he’d need for twenty-four hours with Derek Hale, which wasn’t a lot, he expected. “The event I’m working at tonight doesn’t finish until midnight, and Malia lives close by so I may as well just crash there.” 

 

He was a fool and completely wasting his breath. It was only then, when he was zipping up his bag and chucking it onto his shoulder, that he remembered Derek was hiding in the room. What must he be thinking? Stiles wouldn’t blame him if he walked out this very instant. This performance by Melissa had nothing to do with her disapproving of a Alpha in his life. She just didn’t like the fact that she didn’t know about it, that was all. And she wasn’t going to know, not officially, anyway. Stiles knew that much.

 

The silence spreading between them was a mutual understanding of that. Scott had told her that Stiles was taken by someone, and she couldn’t bear that Stiles’d not confided in her. It would be hard enough spilling if he were to get involved with a regular guy, under regular circumstances, but Derek? And with their twenty-four hour agreement? No, it went against everything Stiles knew, and he was ashamed of himself because of it. While Melissa had been begging him to sow his wild oats, he didn’t think she quite meant as wild as his mother.

 

Melissa gazed at Stiles, her old dark eyes thoughtful. “I’m glad,” she said softly. “You can’t hide from your mother’s history for ever.”

 

Stiles shrunk a little, but not wanting to extend this line of conversation, especially with Derek hiding behind the curtains, he just nodded his head at her, his silent way of saying yes. She nodded in return and slowly backed out of the room, all cool and casual, but he knew she’d be rushing back to the lounge window to see if the man had returned to his swanky car.

 

The bedroom door shut and Derek appeared from behind the curtain. Stiles’d never been so embarrassed, and the interested look on his face only enhanced it, even if it was nice to see him display a facial expression other than the completely serious one that he’d become used to.

 

“Your mother is a busybody, yes?” He was really amused by Melissa’s interrogation performance, yet Stiles could also see curiosity lingering on that perfect face.

 

Straightening himself out, just for something to do other than feed his amusement and his curiosity, Stiles shrugged, feeling smaller than ever. “She’s entertaining,” he flipped, eyes darting across the floor. He wanted the ground to swallow him whole right now.

 

Derek’d pushed up against him in a second. “I felt like a teenager.”

 

“Did you hide behind a lot of curtains back then?” he stepped away to gain some breathing space, but his attempted escape was in complete vain.

 

Derek moved forward. “Are you ready, Stiles McCall Stilinski?”

 

Stiles got the feeling Derek didn’t just mean to leave. Was he ready? And for what? “Yes,” he said, decidedly staunch, not quite knowing where the word spoken with such confidence came from. Stiles stared at him, unwilling to be the first to look away. he didn’t know where he was going or what he’d experience while he’d there, but he knew that he wanted to go . . . with the Mysterious Alpha.

 

Derek’s pretty lips—as Stiles would love to call them— gave an almost undetectable smile, telling Stiles, he knew, that it was feigned confidence. But Stiles kept his own eyes on his, unwavering. Derek leaned down, getting them nose to nose, then blinked slowly, parted his lips slowly, dropped his eyes to Stiles’ mouth slowly, and then increased Stiles’ heart rate further by singeing his bare arm with a delicate touch.

 

Nothing extraordinary, but the feeling was beyond extraordinary, like nothing Stiles’d felt before . . . until they found each other.


	11. Chapter 11

With a blank mind and blank face, Stiles stepped forward and kissed Melissa on her cheek. “See you tomorrow.” He didn’t hang around. Stiles left Melissa frowning and Dr. Deaaton muttering something about a strange boys, and ran down the pathway to the shiny black Camaro, diving in and sinking into the passenger seat. “Go,” He pressed impatiently.

 

But Derek didn’t. The car remained idle at the kerb, and he remained idle in his seat, showing no sign of rushing away from the house as Stiles’d demanded. His tall, suited frame was relaxed, one hand draped casually on the wheel as he looked at Stiles, completely serious, his steely green giving nothing away. What was he thinking?

 Stiles broke their eye connection, but only because he wanted to confirm what he already knew. Looking up to the front window of his house, he saw the curtains twitching. he sagged further in the seat.

 

“What’s the matter, Stiles?” Derek asked, reaching over to rest a hand on his thigh. “Tell me.”

 

Stiles’ eyes were on the big, manly hand, with perfect manicured nails, his flesh burning beneath it. “You shouldn’t have come in,” he answered quietly. “You may have found it amusing, but you’ve just made this even harder.”

 

“Stiles, it’s polite to look at someone when you’re speaking to them.” Derek clasped his soft boney chin and pulled, making Stiles face him. “I apologise.”

 

“It’s done now.”

 

“Nothing about the next twenty-four hours is going to be difficult, Stiles.” His hand slid across Stiles’ cheek tenderly, pushing him to nuzzle into it. “I know being with you will be the easiest thing that I’ve ever done.”

 

It might very well be easy, but Stiles couldn’t see the aftermath being easy. No, he could foreseen a mountain of hurt on his part and easiness on Derek’s. Stiles was not myself around this particular mysterious Alpha—he was aware of that very well. The sensible Omega he’d moulded himself into had gone from one extreme to the other. Melissa was at that window, Derek’s hand was stroking his cheek sweetly, and he couldn’t even muster up the energy to stop tender touch. His insides were already preening. His Omega instinct was on high alert and ready to please the said tender Alpha. His wolf was doing victory dance—if possible waggling its tail happily.

 

“The windows are tinted,” Derek whispers, slowly moving forward and resting his soft lips on Stiles’.

That may be so; however, Derek was not Stiles’ boss, and his cute mother knew that very well. But Stiles’d deal with the interrogation when he’d get home tomorrow. He was suddenly not so concerned. He’d been distracted from his sensible self again.

 

“Are you ready?” Derek asked the question again, but this time Stiles just nodded against him. He was not ready to be heartbroken at all.

 

* * *

 

The drive back to Derek’s apartment was quiet. The only sound in the air surrounding them was Gary Jules singing about a mad world. he didn’t know much about Derek, but he’d figured out that he must come from good stock. His speech was refined, his clothing of the highest quality, and he lived in Wittmore St, named after Jackson Wittmore’s great grandfather—a very well know name of his times—where most of the elite class of Beacon Hills resided.

 

Derek pulled up outside the building and was out of the car and on Stiles’ side without delay, opening the door and ushering him out.

 

“Have it cleaned,” he ordered, detaching his car key from the key ring and handing it to the green-suited valet.

 

“Sir.” The valet tips his hat, then climbs into Derek’s car, immediately pressing a button that brought him closer to the wheel.

 

“Walk.” Derek took the bag and settles his hand on the base of Stiles’ neck again and guided him through the giant glass revolving door and into a mirror-invested lobby. Everywhere Stiles looked, they’re there, him being guided, looking petite, demure and apprehensive, like a newly mated Omega and Derek pushing him onward, looking tall and powerful like a proud gloating Alpha.

 

They bypass the rows of mirrored elevators, heading for the stairwell. “Are the lifts broken?” Stiles asked as he was steered through the doors and pushed up the stairs.

“No.”

“Then why—”

“Because I’m not lazy.” Derek cut him off, leaving no room for further questioning, and continued to hold his nape as they took the stairs.

 

He might not be lazy, but he was seriously crazy—Stiles conceeded to himself with a small hint of a smile on his soft pink lips. Four flights of stairs in and his calf muscles were burning again. Stiles was struggling to keep up. He battled on for one more flight, and

was just about to call for a break when Derek turned and picked him up, obviously aware of the breathlessness. His arms around the Alpha’s neck felt right, as comforting as they did before, as he continued with Stiles draped across his arms like it was the most natural thing in the world.

 

Their faces were so close, his manly Alpha scent burned Stiles’ nostrils in a pleasant way and Stiles was very much aware how his body was reacting to Derek’s nearness as he felt slight wetness slipped in between his vaginal folds. Derek kept his eyes set firmly forward, again giving away nothing, until they were outside a shiny black front door.

 

Derek dropped Stiles to his feet, handed back the bag and took hold of his nape, using his free hand to get the door open, but as the view inside his apartment hits Stiles, he suddenly wanted to run away.

 

He saw the art, the wall where he was held restrained in the past and the couch where he’d sat during his last visit. The images were all vivid, and so were the feelings of helplessness. If Stiles crossed that threshold, he’d be at Derek Hale’s mercy and he didn’t even think his long-lost sass would assist him. . . if he manage to find it.

 

“I’m not sure I—’’

Stiles started backing away from the door, uncertainty abruptly plaguing him, sensibility worming its way into his confused brain. But the fiery determination in Derek’s clear eyes told that he going nowhere and so did the increased grip of his hand the nape.

 

“Stiles, I’m not going to jump you as soon as I get you inside.” His hand shifts down to cold pale upper arm but he didn’t restrain him immediately. “Calm down.”

 

He was trying to, damnit Stiles was fucking trying, but his heart wouldn’t let up and neither would the shakes. “I’m sorry.” He mumbled guiltily, eyes suddenly starting to burn with embarrassment.

 

“Don’t be.” Derek stepped away, giving him access to the entrance of the apartment. “I’d like you to go inside, but only if you want to spend the night with me,” he said slowly, pulling Stiles’ gaze to his. “And I want you to turn and leave if you’re not sure because I can’t do this unless I know you’re one hundred per cent with me.” His face was straight but Stiles could detect an element of pleading behind the impassive green gaze of his eyes.

 

“I just don’t understand why you want me,” he admitted, feeling insecure and vulnerable. Stiles knew what he looked like; He’d reminded every time someone stared at him or comments on his unique eyes, but he also knew that he had very little to offer an Alpha, apart from something pleasant to look at. His mother’s beauty was her downfall, and Stiles never wanted it to be his. He was at risk of losing his self-respect, just like his mother did. He’d made it so there was nothing to know.

 

Alphas normally preferred to have sex with omega’s because they could take their knot, they were more fertile, their scent allured them. But there were Alphas who mated with Alphas or Beta. For them it wasn’t just the sex.

 

Who would want to give any attention to a boy who offered no intrigue or interest beyond the biology? Stiles knew exactly who: Alphas who wanted nothing more than a pretty Omega in their bed, which was exactly why he deprived himself of the potential of being loved—there was no one to love a trans-Omega. They lusted after—Stiles had been forced to give blowjobs few times and he did it in self-preservation— but not loved. He never wanted to be his mother, yet here he was, tinkering too close for comfort on the edge of debasement.

 

Stiles could tell that Derek was thinking hard about how to answer the question, like he knew it’d influence the decision to stay or leave. And Stiles was willing him to make his next words count.

 

“I’ve told you, Stiles.” He gestured to walk inside. “You fascinate me.”

 

Stiles didn’t know whether that was the right answer but he slowly walked into the apartment, and he definitely heard a quiet, relieved exhale of breath from behind him. Stiles circled the round table in the entrance hall, placing his bag on the white marble as he passed, before coming to a stop, not knowing whether to sit on the couch or go into the kitchen.

 

There was an air of awkwardness surrounding them and despite Derek’s words in the car, it was difficult. Derek walked ahead of Stiles and shrugged off his suit jacket, laying it neatly over the back of a chair before making his way to the drinks cabinet. “Would you like a drink?” he asked, pouring some dark liquid into a tumbler.

 

“No.” he shook his head, even though Derek’s not facing me.

“Water?”

“No, thank you.”

“Sit down, Livy,” Derek ordered, turning and gesturing towards the couch.

 

Stiles followed the pointed hand and took his reluctant body to the large cream-coloured leather couch while Derek leaned against the cabinet, slowly sipping the drink. No matter what he did with those lips, whether it was speaking or simply taking a sip of a drink, it was distracting. They move so slowly, almost sensuously . . . deliberately.

 

Stiles desperately concentrating on regulating his thundering heartbeat but lost the battle completely when Derek moved towards him and sat on the coffee table before him, elbows braced on the knees, the drink suspended in front of those lips, and those striking green eyes simmering with all sorts of promises.

 

“I need to ask you something,” he said quietly.

 

“What?” Stiles blurted the word quickly, worriedly.

 

His glass lifted slowly but those steady green gaze stayed on the startled amber. “Are you on contraceptive-pills?” he asked before tipping the tumbler to his lips.

 

“No!” Stiles grimaced, mortified with himself. But in truth, he wish he was. He should have taken Melissa’s advice and got hold of some condoms.

 

“Why are you so offended by my question?”

 

“I—I, I mean I should have been responsible and smart enough to take Melissa’s advice.” he shifted uncomfortably in his seated position, diverting his eyes away from the inquisitive stare. Stiles could feel his face heating, and he wanted to grab one of Derek’s fancy silk cushions to cover it.

 

“Don’t worry, I’ve have condoms.” Derek took another sip with a slight tug of smile on his lips before he sombred as he lowered the glass. “Are you still a virgin or had sex recently?” – there was a slight hesitant lick of the lips and those expressive eyebrows frowned slightly – “I mean after me?”

 

Stiles was dying on the spot. What did it matter when this was only a twenty-four hour deal? Running seemed like the best option for him but his reason for escaping had changed.

“Stiles,” Derek prompted, placing his drink down, the chink of glass on glass making Stiles jump slightly. “Will you please look at me when I’m speaking to you?”

 

His sternness irritates Stiles, and that was the only reason he did as told and looked at the Alpha. “What I’ve after that night and before tonight is none of your business, Derek.” He said quietly, resisting the temptation to snatch the drink and down it.

 

“I simply asked you a question.” Derek was surprised at Stiles sudden and it was clear in his voice. “It’s usually polite to answer a question when you’re asked one.”

 

“No, it’s down to my discretion whether I answer any questions that I’m asked, and I don’t see what relevance your question has.”

 

“My question has plenty of relevance, Stiles, as will your answer.”

 

“And what’s that?”

 

Derek looked down at the glass and swivelled it on the table for a few moments before slowly returning his eyes to Stiles. They cut straight through him. “It will determine whether I fuck you hard immediately, or break you in first.”

 

Stiles jaw slacked on a silent gasp, eyes widening at the obnoxiousness, not that Derek was affected by his shock or reaction to the crass words. He simply took the tumbler and had another slow sip of the dark liquid, keeping those unrevealing eyes on Stiles. If he was smug, there was nothing to give away.

 

“I don’t like repeating myself, but I’ll make an exception,” Derek stated and now Stiles new that damn asshole was smug. “When was the last time you had sex?”

 

Stiles tongue knotted in his mouth as he remained under the watchful eyes. He didn’t want to tell him. Didn’t want Derek to think that he was even more pathetic than he must think already.

“I’ll take your reluctance to answer as an indication that it’s a no.” Derek cocked his head and those bastard lips tugs up mildly, momentarily distracting Stiles from the humiliation. “Well?”

 

“Alphas don’t like Omegas like me. Otherwise do you think I would be sitting here with you?” Stiles whisper harshly glaring at the drink. He swallowed. The taste of his humiliation was bitter as he looked up at those luscious, wet lips. “So yeah I’m still a virgin. Happy?”

 

“Yes.” His response was swift and genuine, yet the stunned eyes were evident. “I have no idea how that’s possible, but it pleases me immensely.” He grabbed Stiles’ chin and lifted. “And I’m talking to you, Stiles, so look at me.” Stiles followed through on his instruction until their eye contact was restored. “I guess that means I’ll be breaking you in.”

 

Stiles did’t gasp this time but his blood instantly heated, sending his pulse rate through the roof, replacing embarrassment with want. He wanted Derek more than he knew he should.

 

Meeting Derek’s intoxicating stare with his own driven gaze, Stiles sent instructions to the muscles in the arms to lift and feel him, but before he could engage them, his phone starts squealing from the bag.

 

“You should answer it.” Derek sat back, giving Stiles space to leave the intimacy of their closeness. “Let her know that you’re still alive.” There’s no amusement on that devastatingly hansom stoic face, but Stiles heard it in his tone.

 

Stiles stood quickly, keen to reassure his inquisitive mother that all was well. He didn’t look at the screen before answering, but he should’ve. “Hi!” He greeted, way too chirpy, given the circumstances.

 

“Stiles?” The voice on the end of the line prompted him to pull the phone from the ear and look at the screen, even though he knew damn well, who it was.

Stiles sighed, picturing Melissa frantically dialling Scott to inform him of the events earlier the evening. “Hi.” He repeated returning the phone back to his ear

 

“That man. Who is he?”

 

“My boss.” Stiles squeezed his eyes shut, hoping Scott to buys it, but he scoffed disbelievingly, which quickly said he’d failed to fool his brother.

 

“Stiles, give me a break! Who is he?’

 

Stiles was stuttering all over the words, frantically searching his mind for some trash to feed Scott. “Just . . . he’s . . . it doesn’t matter!” he snapped, starting to pace. Scott wouldn’t be happy, not after their conversations about Derek Hale.

 

“It’s the coffee-hater, isn’t it?” Scott tone was accusing, spiking Stiles’ own irritation.

 

“Maybe,” He retorted. “Maybe not.” Why he’d added that became a mystery. Of course it was the coffeehater. Who else would it be?

Stiles was so busy trying to fob off his brother that he didn’t notice the coffee-hater looming behind until a chin was on his slim delicate shoulder, and heavy breath fanning in the ear. Stiles gasped as he turned around and, stupidly or not,  hung up on Scott.

 

Derek’s brow was a knot of confusion. “That was a man.”

 

“It’s rude to eavesdrop.” Stiles flipped shut his phone with a snap when it started ringing again.

 

“That may be so.” He held his drink up, one finger detached from the glass and pointing at Stiles. “But like I said, that was a man. Who is he?”

 

“That’s none of your business,” Stiles argued, fidgeting and diverting his eyes from the accusing greens.

 

“If I’m taking you to my bed, then it is my business, Stiles,” Derek pointed out. “Will you please look at me when I’m speaking to you?”

 

Stiles didn’t. He kept his eyes on the floor, silently wondering why he didn’t just tell who it was. It was not who Derek though it was, so what did it matter? Stiles had nothing to hide but Derek demanded for the information was unearthing a childish rebelliousness in him. Or it could be his sass. He didn’t need to find it because it seemed to come out to play willingly around this

Alpha, which was undoubtedly a good job.

 

“Stiles.” Derek hunkered down and captures shinny whiskey eyes, his brow raised in authority. “If there’s an obstruction then I’ll happily eliminate it.”

 

“He’s a friend.” See Stiles was definitely screwing around now.

 

“What did he want?”

 

“To know where I am.”

 

“Why?”

 

“Because, he is my mom’s biological son and my mom has obviously told him that you were at the house and he has put two and two together and come up with Derek.” The mortification was growing by the second.

 

“You brother?” Derek asks, those dark brows showing sign of rising. “He knows about me?”

 

“Yes, he knows about you.” This was getting stupid, Stiles wanted to groan and stomp his foot on the floor. “Can I use your bathroom?” he asked, wanting to escape and gather himself.

 

“You may.” His glass extended from his body and pointed toward a corridor leading off the lounge. “Third door on the right.”

 

Stiles did’t waste time absorbing Derek’s questioning look. He followed his pointed glass, turned his phone off when it rang again, and let himself into the third door on the right, immediately collapsing against the back. But the exasperation was interrupted as Stiles took in the colossal space in front of him. It was not a bathroom.

 

It was a bedroom!

**Author's Note:**

> Kudos and comments are much appreciated. It makes me hella happy to know readers appreciate my work. Please be lenient. This is my very first fanfic and not beta read. Mistakes are inevitable but I edit careful to avoid them as much as possible 
> 
> Tc.


End file.
